The Children of Mobius
by Chris000
Summary: Matt Granger has a new job: Assigned to the Office of Naval Intelligence's Naval Criminal Investigation Service, he has to track down a threat to Human/Mobian relations: a serial killer. But it's not a normal killer, it's one who only kills Humans.
1. Chapter 1: introduction

Author's Note: This has NOTHING to do with the NCIS TV show. The Naval Criminal Investigation Service is a real office that deals with this sort of stuff. I thought it would be neat incorporating this into my future universe that still takes inspiration from present-day militaries

The Children of Mobius

/Begin Transmission/

April 24th, 3238

Office of Naval Intelligence High Command

Seattle, Washington, Earth

Seattle was a quiet town this time of year, despite it being an important trade city and the location of one of the Office of Naval Intelligence High Command Centers due to contingency. This was the advantage to having multiple locations like the ones in Sydney, Chicago, New York, Toronto, and many other places on Earth. If one went offline, the others would take over. At the corner of 4th Avenue and Madison Street, the building shot into the air with the appearance of a pyramid. ONI was cryptic that way. Regardless of this, the citizens lived their lives as if nothing was amiss and they were completely comfortable with this unusual feature of architecture standing out against the international-style buildings.

It was Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthew Granger's big day back. He had been transferred to a ship of the line, The UNSC _Virginia_, a United States-Class frigate. He spent most of his time in small battle groups as a liaison officer, reporting what was going on to the higher-up spooks back on the core worlds. There was something unusual about Granger though. Not his record though, it was spotless: Four years of active duty, distinction in logistics and forensic sciences. He was a practical shoe-in. It was the fact that Granger was a Mobian, a red fox to be exact.

Mobians , or anthropomorphic animals as their proper designation describes, were people from an alternate universe from a planet called Mobius. It was a long story how they had got there and Matt had grown tired of recalling it to everyone he met. He decided to just resign himself to saying 'We were there, and now we're here.' and not say another word on the subject.

Glancing at the patch on his shoulder, he was a bit uncomfortable with the pyramid with the All-Seeing Eye that represented ONI's moniker and slogan _Semper Vigilis_, Ever Vigilant. Granger was no spook and despite the people he worked for; he was not privy on some of the details that the Navy chose to keep from others.

No, he was a member of the Naval Criminal Investigation Service, NCIS. They were a very prestigious organization that functioned much more around UNSC space and in the Mobian alternate universe. He had worked with people from many different nationalities. Today, he was going to be working with a new team, but not before he was to report to his immediate superior, Rear Admiral Hank Dougherty.

The Admiral was a man who was confined to his office contrary to the popular belief that Admirals were men of the line. Dougherty was living proof that this did not hold to all command-rank officers. He was assigned to NCIS following a stint on the UNSC _Ophelia_, a dreadnought.

Granger pushed open the double doors that lead to Ops, a place where Agents met and discussed matters crucial to their cases or where suspects or witnesses were brought in for questioning. An armed MP directed him towards Dougherty's office up a flight of elegant stairs, the All-Seeing Eye logo carved into the rock above a receptionist's desk at the top.

"Excuse me, I'm here to see Admiral Dougherty?" Matt said showing the woman a slip of paper signed by ONI brass.

The receptionist looked over the paper. "Lieutenant J.G. Matthew Granger, age 31?"

Granger smiled, which revealed sparkling white canines. "That's right."

"Service number please?"

"71934-29017-MG"

"OK, this checks out, where were you born? Oh yes, Mobius but where exactly?"

"I was born in a town called Jethro on the East Coast in 3207."

"OK, I just need to process this." She punched in the data on her computer and waited as the system verified.

"New security measures?"

"Tell me about it." The secretary said rolling her eyes. "We've had system sweeps left and right, our firewalls got _another_ update and the A.I.s got cycled prematurely! Where have you been, hon?"

"I guess you could say under a rock. I was on the _Virginia_ all the way out in the Hawking Expanse for a good few months."

"Well, I guess you're happy to see civilization again." She handed a card to him. "You're all cleared, hon. Just show this to the guard up ahead and turn right at the first intersection. The Admiral's door should have his name on it."

Matt took the card, nodded slightly and walked through the doors. Following the receptionist's instructions, he showed the card to the Marine guarding an elevator, stepped inside and went to the only floor that was available to him. After spending roughly ten seconds in the elevator, the door opened and he walked out.

An ensign crossed his path accidentally and saluted him. It felt good to have the silver bar of a Lieutenant Junior Grade on his collar. Just a few weeks ago, he had been one of these ensigns, a junior officer in charge of communications with ONI while in the field. He always reminded himself that if he kept up his good behavior, maybe he could earn himself a Prowler or a Frigate if he managed to reach Commander within the next few years.

Making a right at the first intersection he found, he saw the door that led to Dougherty's office. There was his name in an ornate brass plaque nailed to his door. He knocked once to which he heard,

"Come in."

The door was old-style, meaning it swung open on hinges. They did this back on Mobius but were less common here, excepting in the Colonies.

Rear Admiral Hank Dougherty's office was rather spacious, five times larger than the regulation 10x10 meter bunkrooms Matt had had onboard the _Virginia_. Matt had to marvel at the space. On bookshelves sat copies of _Moby Dick_, _Hamlet_, _The Devine Comedy_, and various other works. Shelves had models of old seafaring ships such as the HMS _Enterprize_ and planet globes. In front of the window itself behind an oak desk sat Hank Dougherty.

The Admiral was pushing 65 and didn't look a day over forty thanks to medical technology, although small slivers of gray were forming near his temples. He was signing off some papers marked with the Section 3 insignia, the Roman Numeral III with the ONI eye in the background. When he saw Matt, he covered the papers up.

"Lieutenant Granger, please have a seat." He gestured to an armchair. Matt sat without hesitation.

"Glad to have you back in UN controlled space. I trust you had a good time aboard the _Virginia_?"

"Yes sir."

"How are the bars treating you?" He was referring to the collar insigne.

"Everything they said they'd be."

Dougherty smiled. "I've called you back for a reason Lieutenant. Two weeks ago we received a bit of troubling news from Mobius."

That made Granger's hair stand on end. When it came to his homeworld, anything could be bad news.

"What's the problem, Admiral?"

"Please direct your attention to the video screen, Lieutenant?"

A small video file flickered on. It revealed a parking lot of some sort, underground. A pair of white sedans were parked, all eight of their occupants human, were meeting for some reason. From the memorabilia in their hands it was clear they were on their way to some sort of a sporting event. Granger recognized this place as the Alexander Acorn Center for Athletic Competition, the local stomping ground for football, basketball, baseball; you name it, and the largest sports arena in town. Before the men could proceed any further, a black car drove up the ramp. The men, assuming this to be another sports fan, didn't give them much attention. When the driver-side door opened and a figure stepped out with a suppressed Assault Rifle and fired, they started to run.

Immediately, three of the men dropped from headshots, blood puffing in the air. The rest ran. The assailant kept firing in short controlled bursts. Dougherty switched the cameras and saw the remaining humans running. Then the gunman opened fire again and brought the last of them down. The last man, who managed to get the farthest, was alive though. The gunman walked up to him. They saw that he was dressed entirely in black but had a fox-like tail visible. He kicked the writing man over and appeared to speak to him (they assumed this since the man, who was going into shock, moved his mouth) but then the gunman fired a single round into the man's chest, then walking away to his car and driving away.

"Is that all we have?"

"Yes. This was no ordinary murderer. The gunman was obviously trained in military ranged combat, indicated by the way he opened fire on the men in steady, short bursts."

"UNSC?"

"Unsure, but we can suspect so, yes."

"Do we have an M.O.?"

"Seems to be racial. You saw that he was a Mobian as indicated by his tail at 15.7 seconds in. His targets: all Human, three Caucasian, two African, and the other three Asian. You should see the Chief Medical Officer for a detailed report later. Other than that, we have no strong evidence to go on. Seems like a routine murder though." Dougherty handed Granger his case file. "You're dismissed Lieutenant. Your team will consist of Ensign Martin Borden, and Agents Lou Kinsler and Zhou Chen, each trained in ballistics, forensics, and your run-of-the-mill criminology fields. They'll be pretty useful, so I feel you have nothing to worry about.

"You _sure_ this is what I should be doing on my first job?"

"I have worse jobs to be covered by more trained professionals. I think a good old-fashioned murder should be just what the doctor ordered as a warm-up case. We'll get you something more challenging when you wrap this one up." He held out his hand, which Granger took and shook warmly.

"Welcome to NCIS Lieutenant."


	2. Chapter 2: The First Clue

Chapter 2: The First Clue

April 2nd, 3237

ONI NCIS Headquaters

Seattle, Washington, Earth

Granger was on the move. He quickly exited Dougherty's office and got back in the elevator. Travelling back to main floor, he looked for his men. Borden, Kinsler, and Chen. From their photos in the files he had, he identified them rather quickly. Borden was the tall one, a golden bar on his collar. _Ensign_ Borden. Granger knew Navy when he saw it, and this young man certainly fit the physical description: tall, lanky, wobbling slightly from microgravity effects, and a self-satisfied smirk that said 'I'm better than you'. It was a common trait in Navy Junior Officers. That needed to stop here. Matt had to establish that he was the team leader, and wouldn't let his tail get in the way of things.

The others were not familiar to him. Lou Kinsler and Zhou Chen were sitting down looking at a video screen. Chen was the Mobian, a racoon. Chen had two rib holsters with M6K pistols grip out. Evidently he was the weapons expert. Kinsler was the techie, typing in commands so fast that Granger couldn't make out what was on the screen. He straightened his tie and wallked forward.

"Gentlemen." Matt said.

Chen wheeled around and smiled. "Looks like our new boss, huh?"

"Got that right. You Chen?"

"I think I might be." he smirked. He was a racoon but Granger could see the Asian ethnicity in him. Black hair tied in a ponytail, somewhat slanted eyes, and a dogtag that had the Mandarin characters for 'Badass'. "Some days I ain't. Today I am. Zhou Chen, Master of Disguise at your service." He extended his hand. Granger grabbed it and shook solidly.

"I'm Kinsler. Nice to meet you, sir." he had an London accent, but his dark skin suggested an African heritage.

"Likewise. I trust you're familiar with most computer systems?"

"They make 'em, I break 'em."

"Good man. What sort of equipment do you have with you?"

"Standard PDA, piece of rubbish, it is. Bloody thing can only crack a 32 bit lock in 5 seconds. Need to upgrade."

"So you can hack through anything?" Granger asked.

"Bloody near anything. ONI Firewalls are too strong for me to break through. Wait one, that reminds me." He drew a small cylinder. written on a piece of masking tape was 'SEAN'. "This is me AI, Sean. He's charging right now. Built him myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah, when I was eight. Found a matrix, emmiter, and I got a crystal for my birthday once. Put it all together, and you got Sean here. He's not exactly military grade, but he's up to the task, I reckon."

Granger looked at the last man. "And what's your name, superstar?"

"Borden, Ensign Michael Borden."

"Granger, Lieutenant Junior Grade Matt Granger."

Granger saw the smug Ensign tighten his lips and stood straight as he was in the presence of a higher ranked officer.

"Where were you stationed before this?"

"The _Wicker Man_, an ONI subprowler."

Matt nodded. "So you've worked with ONI before?"

"Well, it was where I got my first commission out of High School. I was 19 when I signed on."

"Your dossier has mention of an 'incident' two years ago."

Borden gulped. "I...I had a little too much one night."

"Yes, it says you punched out a fellow officer. Sent him to the hospital, and sent you to the brig for a week. You lost whatever chance of promotion you had at the time, but it looks like you're on the right track."

"Yes sir."

"Remember this: I was once an Ensign a few weeks ago. Just stay in line, follow my orders, and we'll have you commanding a prowler when we're done."

"Yes sir." Borden said.

This was his team. This was the group of men that would find a murderer, and put him away. But before anything, Matt needed to educate his men. He had the USB drive that contained the camera footage. slotting it in a computer slot, he brought it onto a computer screen.

"What you are about to see is captured from a security camera from the Alexander Acorn arena. Chen, you know the place?"

"Yeah. Saw the rumble between the Jets and the Guards? Damn! That's the trouble with cross-universal games, they always take forever to broadcast -"

"I get it Chen." Granger said. "Keep your eyes on the screen."

The video started rolling with the four Humans walking through the garage. The black car pulled in and and the gunman stepped out, spraying the men with suppressed automatic fire. Then, the final execution and the car pulled away.

"He's methodical." Borden noted.

"I know. Possible military training based on the way he fired that gun. Doctor Jansen has the corpses in the freezer back on Mobius. We'll also be picking up samples of whatever shell casings were recovered from the scene. According to the video, almost ten shots were fired, but based on the report, only three were recovered.

"Bastard's covering his tracks." Kinsler said. "But he ain't doing a good job of it, I see."

"Yeah. Look at his car, no plates on the front. Technically that's illegal in Knothole."

"Well gentlemen, my diagnosis is we have an organized killer on the loose, possible terrorist. This man has murdered before and he will do it again, I am sure. Kinsler, Borden, Chen. Pack your bags, we're going to my place."

* * *

The three men stood in line for a ship bound for Mobius. Seattle Spaceport wasn't very crowded today which made moving along quite simple. They stepped up to register for their flight.

"Good afternoon, sirs." the attendant said. "Will you all be flying together?"

"Yes, we will. Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthew Granger, Office of Naval Intelligence." he held out a small identification card. The attendant stared at him blankly.

"Sorry? You're with Naval Intelligence?" she asked with a 'deer in the headlights' look about her.

"That's what I just said." Granger said patiently.

"Is there an echo in here?" Chen asked under his breath. Borden laughed but Kinsler smacked the racoon in the back of the head.

"Shut up, Zed."

"We would like 4 seats, please."

"Mobius, right?"

Granger raised an eyebrow. "We never said where we were headed. We could have been going to Constance for a bachelor party, or Thyris to relieve a research team."

"I...I'm sorry, I just assumed."

"That I would like to go back to my homeworld, just because I am a Mobian?"

"I..."

"Maybe because you have a government card in your hand, that you cannot ask where I am headed, except swipe the card, confirm my identity and step aside.

"But...I just started working here."

"Is there a problem?" a man said edging into the booth. "I'm sorry, you are?"

"Granger, Lieutenant JG Matthew Granger, Office of Naval Intelligence."

"Oh, I'm sorry Lieutenant. Do you have a card or ID badge of sorts?"

"Yes, I gave it to her." Matt said pointing to the attendant who was flipping the grey-black card nervously over in her hands.

"Emily, you know procedure." The man said sternly. "You cannot ask ONI operatives about their work. Just swipe the card and electronically register tickets."

The attendant, Emily, nodded and slid the card through the reader. The console flashed green as the machine confirmed their identity and automatically billed the tickets to the ONI budget.

"Sorry for the inconvenience sir. Enjoy your flight." the man said smiling.

Granger walked away and cracked a small smile.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Damn, right I did. Racist bitch."

Kinsler stuttered in amazement. "How...how did you do that?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, Kinsler."

The transport was the size of a large aircraft, but almost three times as complex. SCRAM engines were mounted next to regular turbines. Only a few hundred people were on the ship but the vast abundance of them created a relatively easy flow of travelers.

The four men sat down and slid webbing over their bodies. They had all been in shuttles like this when coming or going to Mobius. Fairly cheap actually, considering that they were paying for trans-universal travel.

"_Good afternoon everyone, welcome aboard Flight 816 bound for Knothole International Airport, departing today at 3:17 PM. Our arrival time will be two hours fifteen minutes and we will arrive at 6:20 Local Time. Temperatures in Knothole are a very comfortable 68 degrees Fahrenheit or 20 degrees Celsius. Please remember, especially children, do not fight the acceleration and enjoy your flight._"

The engines activated and the jet started to roll down the runway. Matt loved the rumble of ships, being stationed aboard lots of them in his life. Then, the transport started to pick up speed and soon took off. The jets wouldn't fire right away, as it could cause harm to ground crew. Instead, they climbed nearly straight up to fifty thousand feet and then fired the SCRAMS.

The first acceleration pressed Granger into his seat and he started to lose corners of vision. The ascension may have been uncomfortable but the jets would get them to escape velocity. Kinsler laughed in glee. Matt guessed that he didn't fly into space often and was like a kid at Christmas.

Soon, the invisible fist of acceleration died away. Surrounding them out of the portholes were black. Peaceful, deep space. Earth was behind them, and ahead was Luna, a silver disc, pockmarked from billions of years of meteor impacts. Orbiting the moon was the gate that would take them to Granger's homeworld.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we will be firing our engines once to bring us up to over half a million miles an hour. The moon will appear to come closer and closer every second. If this is your first time aboard a shuttle, pictures and videos are allowed, but we insist on no flash photography. Thank you. _

On some screens, the exterior of the ship tumbled and roled so that the transport was facing the moon. "_Accelerating_." the pilot said. There was some rumbles as the engines ignited. Everyone felt strain. Inertial dampers on small shuttlecraft were not as advanced as others. Inertal dampers worked by redirecting high-G forces. When a any sort of vehicle takes a turn, it exudes 'G-forces' upon the passenger. It's felt all the time in cars and in planes, but in spacecraft, the effect and importance of inertia was magnified exponentially. Without dampers, large starships could not perform high velocity turns lest the crew be splattered into a gooey paste on the wall. Granger could have sworn somebody call it "chunky salsa" in OCS. Inertial Dampers on the other hand, served to avoid this.

Like Slipspace, Granger was fuzzy on the details. Technically something like this shouldn't exist in the first place. Based on what he read, a field could be erected that could literally shut out the external masses that were exuded by high-speed maneuvers, allowing a "trapped" mass to be exuded on the inside. The physics had to be astronomically insane, as he couldn't even conceive how you could transport a tiny shuttle across Existence! Not garden-variety space, but Existence itself.

But he was thinking too much. While he was pondering Inertial Dampers, the moon had grown from the size of a penny to the size of…well the moon. He looked out of his porthole and saw only the grey and dark grey stained surface, pockmarked with millions of craters, sparkling lights of settlements, tracks from hundreds of trucks and rovers, and somewhere down on the surface, a small monument dedicated to men who had gone where no-one had gone before.

The gate was in high orbit, strobe lights flickering in the dark to indicate her presence. This thing was huge, larger than the Mobius gate. It captivated Matt, the circular beauty, all the brainchild of Matthew Mobius; the "father" of their race. Granger was actually named after him.

Matt may have been disappointed with Human racism, but he always admired their ingenuity. It was Human effort that built this thing anyway.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to enter the gate. We will have to seal off portholes, as radiation will spike to Gamma Wave levels. If you are interested, we have an audio history of the gate that can be played on your console while in transit. Thank you_."

Thick metal plates slid over the windows. Granger once heard a story about a Pelican Dropship that once tried to make the transition. The crew survived, but sucked up a lot of radiation. He had nothing else to do, so he booted up the history program.

"Start up the history lesson". He told the computer.

"_Running program. Please relax and enjoy_."

"_Constructed in secret in 2280, ten years before Tobias Fleming Shaw and Wallace Fujikawa invented the now-famous Slipstream Drive, Matthew Gregory Mobius had something different in mind. In secret and with funding from the United Nations Space Command Office of Naval Intelligence, Mobius created a warpgate through which fast and efficient trans-light travel could be conceived. However, after construction and field tests were complete, disaster struck…_"

The gate pulsed blue, responding to codes sent by the transport. Powered by two Sol Emeralds, the gate had a sense of symbiosis, a calm equilibrium to catapult a ship through the Universe. The ten kilometer wide hoop seemed gigantic in comparison to a small ship such the shuttle. The shuttle, coasting on inertia alone, entered the gate at almost half a million kilometers an hour. In a flash, they were gone.

* * *

The ONI operatives stepped from their shuttle and took in the Mobian sunshine. Kinsler and Borden had never been here. "Bloody hell! Look at the sky, mate!" Matt cracked a smile. He could see where he was going. The blue sky was a sharp contrast to some places on Earth. The cleaner atmosphere had this effect on some Humans. Waiting for them was a warthog jeep _sans_ turret, possibly to keep people from getting nervous.

"Lieutenant Granger?" the Human driver asked.

"Yeah, that's me." Matt responded, taking off a pair of sunglasses so he could see the man properly.

"I have orders from Command to take you to the palace."

"Why are we going to a castle?" Kinsler asked.

"Good question. I think it's for your investigation about those guys who were killed the other day. I don't know why no other crime lab in the city was good enough but that wasn't my call."

"How swept up is everyone over this case?"

"They're real upset. Even heard rumors of the King and Queen getting nervous. I'm just quoting Internet forums here but they might feel as if it could 'hurt diplomatic relations for both sides'."

"Yeah, you don't wanna piss off the UNSC." Borden remarked.

Granger bit his lip. Dspite Borden's bigotry and ego, he agreed with him. The only reason Mobius had gotten to where it was was through the UNSC.

"Anyway, I'm not paid by the hour sir." the driver said. "I should take you to the castle."

They piled in and started the engine. It was rush hour. People were leaving work and filled up the street, making the drive difficult.

"Come on, jackass!" someone behind them. "Move that hunk of metal crap!"

The driver gave the man behind them the One Finger Salute and returned to watching the road. "Nice place, no pollution, but do _not_ piss off the drivers here."

"I wouldn't know. I'm from the East Coast."

"Yeah? I'm from L.A."

"Well, L.A. is long gone from this place, just a rolling valley now. I'm from a town called Jethro right on the sea."

"Sounds real bitchin'."

"Indeed."

* * *

The castle stood impending in the air. Constructed during the Dark Age of Mobians after a technological shutdown after initial colonization, constructed of the strongest granite, marble and quartz that the people could haul, it had evolved over the centuries to become a stronghold.

Inside though, there was classic stone halls, but iron corridors, defense turrets, logistical departments, and even an airstrip. This was one of the most advanced structures on the planet. Kinsler, Borden, Chen and Granger were directed towards the medical center. The door had the typical 'Snake and Wings' on it. The door slid open from proxamity and inside, the doctor stood. The duck doctor was standing over a console tapping in some information.

"Doctor Horatio Quack?"

"Doctor _Quinton_ Horatio Quack!" he whipped around, revealing bight blue eyes. The doctor came up to shake Granger's hand. "Lieutenant J.G. Matthew Granger?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Right then, let's get this show on the road. Follow me, kid."

Quinton led the ONI operatives through several sterile rooms and through a lab. In the back was a morgue.

"Been a while since I've been in these places." Chen said uncomfortably. The morgue was chilled to halt cellular decomposition. There was no body on the table yet.

"OK. We have four bodies here, all of them killed by the gunman. Let's see, who's a bigger trainwreck?"

He flicked his fingers, looking for a suitable cedaver. "OK, Mr. H. Yong."

He opened the door and pulled out a body covered with a shroud. Carefully instructing Kinsler and Borden to ease the gurney over, they set the body of H. Yong on the table.

"OK." Quack said. "Before we do this, do you have any aversion to dead bodies? There's a trash can right behind you if you need it."

Chen was the only one who shrugged.

"Alright. You can wait outside if you'd like. No? OK, when I lift up the shroud, you wouldn't even think he's dead, except he'll have multiple bullet holes in his torso."

"Let's go." Chen said.

Quack took the shroud off. Despite having paler skin, Yong appeared to be sleeping, just as Quack said he would. The only thing that was disturbing was that part of Yong's head was blown off. His brain was shredded by the round.

"As you can see here, Yong suffered a headshot. No blood puffs, that sort of crap. Half of his skull came off. Smaller injuries occured after that. He's lying down so you can't see those bullet holes."

"Do we know what sort of weapon made this damage?"

"No. We cannot find a weapon based on the bullet hole itself. It's an assault rifle though based on what we have recovered. I believe this is the bullet we found lodged in his skull."

He walked over to his desk and recovered crumpled round. "This is a .308 caliber round. Standard for say, an AK-47."

"Something more modern for the Human please?" Kinsler asked.

"OK. Standard ammunition round for...an MA5 series rifle. That suffice?"

"Yeah. So this is what we know killed these men."

"Correct, but hundreds of guns utilize the .308. It would be difficult to determine which one killed these men. HOWEVER, I had a ballistics expert examine the round. Mr. Borden, please look at this bullet. What can you tell me?"

Borden looked at the bullet, scrutinized it, tried to mentally reconstruct it for an accurate analysis. He swirled it around in his hands. "It's rubberized and equipped with a hollow-tip head."

"Correct! When the bullet entered Yong's head, the hollow tip allowed it to pierce the skull, but after that, it flattened to deliver blunt force trauma against the front of his head, causing the damage you see here. The rubberized bit, I believe according to the expert -"

"acts as a redundancy. It allows the bullet to bounce around causing even more damage."

"Yes. Should the bullet be blown off-course, the rubber does deal damage, allowing the bullet to bounce around. Now, if you know your chemistry, rubber burns at high temperatures. So, a thin layer of plastic is laid over the round so that when it burns away, the rubber is revealed."

"These bullets are not standard issue." Granger concluded.

"I agree, but take a look at this."

He took a plastic baggie off his desk. There was a single cartridge in it.

"Whoa, you got one intact?" Chen asked.

"Yeah. Police found it underneath a black SUV. Probably rolled under there."

"Misfire perhaps?" Borden suggested.

"Hmm..." Granger said. "A weapon jam would result in this. Many guns feature a manual system to clear a chamber It's possible the gunman had to clear the jam and forgot to pick up the cartridge."

"Well, it helps us." Kinsler concluded.

"Now, here's the rub:" Quack continued. "Rounds like these cannot be found anywhere, they are custom made. The police have checked the only weapon supply store in the city. Nothing even remotely similar to this round exists in the city."

"So we have a clue." Granger said.

"Yes you do. Look at this." Quack flipped the baggie and showed the primer of the round. On it was stamped a winged hourglass flanked by double 'X's.

"I know that." Borden said. "That's the logo for Misriah Armories on Mars."

"What's that mean, Misriah sells casings to independant manufacturers?" Chen asked.

"I would assume so." Borden concluded.

"Maybe we should have a talk with the folks at Misriah, and in the meantime, we need to discover the source at the rounds. Whichever one we can get first."

"Well, I'm a doctor, not a ballistic analyst." Quinton said. "Get to it. I'll take care of Yong."

"OK. Thanks, Doc." Matt said turning around to leave.

Now alone, Quinton Quack looked over the body of H. Yong. He brought the tray back onto its morgue rack.

"Oh, what a waste." he sighed sadly drawing the linen over his face. "Sleep tight. We'll get this guy, my friend".


	3. Chapter 3: Picking Up the Trail

Chapter 3: Picking Up the Trail

April 3rd, 3237, 1927 hours

Castle Acorn, Ops

Mobius

Ops was the code-name for a circular operations center located near the keep. It had the latest in instruments, communications, and even weaponry for off-world defenses. It was curious because this was the only place in the castle that was staffed entirely with Humans. Various naval personnel tapped on consoles, answering constant inquiries sent by incoming spacecraft. It was here that Matt located a superluminal communications center. Officially, the purpose was to communicate with ships using backwards-engineered Forerunner communications technology. Like many things, Matt had no idea how they worked, and strangely, nobody out of Section 3 was willing to talk about it. Unofficially, this device could also be used to contact people in the other universe. Not wanting to spend any more taxpayer money, Matt requested that they use the castle's device.

"And what was the problem with using any other device in the city?" Borden asked.

"Three reasons." Matt divulged. "One: this device is the fastest on the planet. Two: This is the only device to my knowledge that'll tag any outgoing message with military urgancy. Three: Big screens."

"Should have known." Borden said smiling. "So, how do we contact Misriah? Some sort of galactic Yellow Pages or something like that?"

"Actually yes." Granger said with a tone that suggested even he was surprised. "Misriah is the largest weapons manufacturer in Human Space. Thus being said, it also has one of the largest civilian market as well. So, as you suggested, Mr. Borden, I just checked the Yellow Pages."

"No fucking shit."

"That's what I like about Humans."

"Yeah, we never cease to amuse."

"I was going to say 'amaze', but that works too."

Matt dialed in the number for the Martian Administration Offices for orbs and two hoops appeared on-screen, each one representing Earth, Mobius and their respective warpgates. A lightning bolt shot through the hoops and reached the other orb, a quantum ring tone. A prerecorded message sounded.

"_You have reached the main headquarters of Misriah Armories, 'Battle-tested for your Home', winner of the prestigious Manufacturer of the Year award for the last seven years. If you would like to use our pre-recorded service for easy access, say so now. If you would like to speak to a live representative--_"

"Yes."

Elevator music. Out of the corner of his eye, Granger thought he saw Borden schmoozing to the music. Quite amusing indeed.

A man appeared. Despite his youth, he appeared to be balding. "_Misriah Armories, Representative Joel speaking. How can I help you today_?"

"Hey Joel, how you doing? My name is Lieutenant JG Matthew Granger, Office of Naval Intelligence Section 2."

Joel didn't flinch. "_Yes, how can I assist you today Lieutenant_?"

"We're investigating a multiple homicide here on Mobius."

"_That's aweful_."

"Yeah, your sympathy is noted. The murderer was utilizing Misriah .308 rounds."

"_That's not surprising_."

"I'll bet it isn't."

"_What's the issue, Lieutenant?_"

"These rounds were modified, extensively so. Is there someone we can talk to about this?"

"_That's outside of my knowledge Lieutenant_."

"Joel, this is part of a major investigation that could harm interspecies diplomatic relations. Do you want to obstruct the one thing that can lead to a war?"

Joel bit his lip. "_No. No I don't. Hang on a second_."

More elevator music. Borden nodded approvingly an clapped. "Bravo Lieutenant."

"That's why I'm the boss, boyo."

A man in a smart brown business suit appeared on-screen. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat. The man was in his fifties. His crown was grey but some sharp black streaks wrapped around his temples, a gigantic moustache dominated his face. "_Lester T. McMahon, sector manager of Misriah Armories here in Seven Hills. What can I do for you gentlemen today_?"

"Mr. McMahon, approximately three days ago, a murder took place here, a multiple homicide. The murderer utilized an assault rifle which fired Misriah rounds."

"_What, are you accusing the company to being an accessory to murder_?"

"Mr. McMahon, if that were the case, you'd have to add that to the wavering pile of lawsuits you'd have on your desk at the moment. That's not the reason I called though."

"_Then what is_?"

"This is the bullet we recovered from the scene." he whistled to Borden who passed the bag over. "7.62x51mm. Standard issue for most assault rifles. Notice anything wierd about this cartridge?"

"_Contains two modifications on them. Illegal, very illegal. Rubberized head for a Rimshot-style bounce, and a hollow tip to allow damage spread._"

"Why is it illegal?" Borden found himself asking.

"_Gentlemen, I help run a respectable business. Misriah prides itself in bringing the best of a personal defense system. This right here is not _us_ so to speak. Using the Misriah logo on it is even worse. That is the illegal bit._"

"So, someone is selling illegally modified, copyrighted rounds." Borden concluded.

"_Bingo._"

"You sell rounds to Mobius?"

"_Certainly_._ You're on our Premium Client list. The Mobian military has been stocking up. I don't know._"

"Possibility of rounds being smuggled in?"

"_Unlikely_."

Granger's ear twicthed curiously. "Explain."

"_You see, weapons are not something you let cross a border easily. If any transport is carrying some form of ordinance, they are stopped and asked to present the goods. A scanner checks to see if the cartridges if they stack up to universal standards. Anything gets flagged, the rounds are compensated, simple as that. No, no, no, no. My guess is that these were delivered as stock but were modified _after_ they reached Mobius_."

"So now we have third-party manufacturers in the mix now."

"_Yes. I guess we do. Independant manufacturers would be something to look at. Illegal as well, most likely_."

"Makes sense." Granger said, more to Borden than anyone else. "Preliminal reports stated that the only gun shops in the city was checked. Nothing."

"Yeah, but how about foreign manufacturers?"

"_It just so happens I have a list of Indepenadnt manufacturers that we supply to regularly. Five of them. One in Nova Kanada, one in Brayzil, one in Kayro, two in Mercia, one in Downunda. I can send you the names._"

"That's be nice."

"_Independant manufacturers don't always play by the rules. You've got a rotten egg slipped in there somewhere. It's your job to sniff it out. I just lit the way for you_."

"Nice metaphor. Did you come up with that yourself?"

"_I find time. Good luck in your investigation gentlemen_."

"Thank you Mr. McMahon, you've just helped with a major investigation."

The screen shut off, leaving the two men to contemplate what just happened. "Well, that was interesting." Borden admitted.

"Yeah, I thought that was going to be much more lengthy than that."

"Even though this was quite helpful...I'm still not satisfied." Granger said.

"You thinking of sending a man in?"

"Yeah, just poke around a little. Figure out what we can."

"Chen?"

"The self-proclaimed '_Master of Disguise_' himself. He's done undercover work before. Maybe he knows a few people."

"Maybe. Might have to check out a few shady joints here though."

"Trust me. Based on what I've read in the files, he'll be over that shit like a fat kid on a donut."

* * *

"Lovely night for a stroll." Zhou Chen said to himself. Knothole in the dark was still fairly active but most of the streets were emptied. Every so often, Zhou would pass a few cars travelling in clusters so that they wouldn't be on their own in the dark. The shattered moonlight above illuminated his way. He passed a few people and saw his contact's location up ahead. It was a club called the Radian. It was sleek, kind of like a starship, but it served some of the best beer in town and even something called 'Groob'. Human colonial drink. Never had it before, sounded yucky.

The Radian was pounding, sending sound waves into his very bones. Chen sidestepped the line and went to the bouncer, a dalmation wearing mirrored lenses.

"Hey, Coon-boy, back of the line buddy, we don't have favorites here."

He whispered into the man's ear. "ONI agent." He flashed the badge once, and then his M6K stashed near his back.

The bouncer blinked once, but saw that Chen was all business "Aight, you're cool. Go on in, bro."

The line he passed leered daggers into his skull. Chen sucked it up and walked through, taking time to tilt his shades down to wink at a beautiful asian woman. "_Konichiwa_, Gorgeous."

The inside of the club was screens, poles, and bars. A bunch of people were dancing in the center. He tapped the part of the glasses hooking behind his ears. "Hope this gets through." Chen said hoping the Audio/Video recorder would function. Chen trusted his contact. He had used this man for multiple info drops. Despite this, he wanted information he could fall back on. Being a cop came first. He scanned the crowd for his man. Then, he saw the signal, two glowsticks twirling in the darkness.

"I almost thought you weren't coming."

"How you doing Travis?" Chen asked.

"I'm living." Travis the Platypus swirled his drink "So, you're with ONI now."

"Who told you that?"

"I've got my sources, don't you worry 'bout that, Chen."

"The hell you do. What the fuck you doing here, Travis? There are nicer clubs."

"Eh, they're not as fun. This place mixes a mighty fine Zombie, not to mention the legs..."

A dancer came by over their table. She was Human, redhead, baby-blue eyes. She did a little jig that did its job on Zhou. "You wanna private dance, sweetheart?"

"I'm a little busy right now, babe. Tell you what, I'm sticking around later, maybe then?"

"Sure thing. Name's Jillian."

"Ooh, I like that name."

She giggled. "See you soon, handsome." She walked away.

"Well, well, well, Chenny's a lover of the flesh?"

"Sometimes the home-growns don't really cut it."

"Amen. Personally, I'd fuck her." Travis laughed and downed his drink. He tapped the table and a robot came by to replace the glass. "Thanks. I hold my standards really high, Chenny, so nothing but Grade-A epidermus touches this body."

Chen laughed and ordered a beer. "God I love talking with you. That's not why I'm here though. I need to talk about something important."

"Murder right? I heard there was a little incident a few days ago. Nasty stuff, methodical, precision, almost surgical."

"Bingo."

"You got something for me, Chenny?"

"Indeed I do. This," he retrieved a baggie, "is a recovered bullet. Misfire, so we got it intact. Can you tell me anything about this? Maybe you've seen something or heard about shit like this?"

"I might have. This would be a regulation .308 caliber round for an assault rifle. However, it has a couple illegal modifications."

"Info."

"ONI pays the tab?"

"They'll give you a Prowler if you want it."

Suddenly, there was a scuffle near a close bar.

A male bear in his mid-twenties had gotten in a disagreement with a Human. There was a shouting match before a bouncer broke it up. "You better watch yourself Human! There are people on this rock who'll slit your throat in your sleep! You better not mess with me, lest you attract unwanted eyes!"

"You're fucking drunk, pal!" The Human countered before returning to his friends.

Chen shook his head. "Who's the asshole?"

"Don't know. Just a guy who's had one too many. He speaks the truth though. Some Mobians _really_ do not like Humans. These victims are the latest and the worst. I want to help make sure this doesn't happen again. I recognize the work here. This is the personal flair of one Jonham Gerdenwald, an arms dealer from Mysterious Cat Country. He's a nomad though, moves from place to place. To people such as myself, we are supplied with regular movement details. For the next few months, he will be located in Mercia, roundabout Wessex. Secluded though, usually works out of abandoned buildings. His next nest will be a church. Which? I am not sure."

"Great. When we meet Mister Gerdenwald, what will we expect?"

"Well, he'll probably shit his pants when he realizes the feds found him." he chuckled into his Zombie. "Then, he'll spill his guts to you. I can almost guarantee it. Finding the church, well, that's up to you. But then again, you _are _Naval Intelligence, right?"

"Somedays I wonder, Travis."

"Listen, go with the Humans on this one, Chenny. They want this guy, they'll get him come hell or high water. They may even call in Spartans on this one."

"You trying to give me nightmares, Travis?"

"Just a simple fact of life. People disappear when MJOLNIR comes down on you."

"Alright Travis. Thanks bunches, sunshine. Hey, keep me posted on anything that comes up. He knocked back his beer and paid his tab. He also got Travis' as well. "That's for you."

"You're a diamond. Hey, what about your 'girlfriend'?"

"Well, I don't have to be back for a little while. Guess I have time for one dance."

"Go, be young my son. God knows when you'll wake up with a gun pointing in your face. I should know. That thought goes through my head every day."

"Thanks again, Travis." Chen said. He got up to leave and walked towards that dancer.

* * *

"You sure this is accurate?" Granger asked, reviewing a transcript of Chen's confrontation with Travis.

"Yeah. Checked some alternate sources as well. It adds up." Chen replied.

"I knew it, I knew it." Granger said. "And by a stroke of luck, none of the names given to me match the information that McMahon delivered to me. My gut's telling me that Gerdenwald was too secret for them to know about, so I think we're heading in the right direction with going after this Gerdenwald guy."

"Did I mention how I love working here?" Borden said."

"Only a million times, Navy." Kinsler said typing on a laptop.

"Wessex, that's in Mercia, a remote town. Not many churches but still enough to make things interesting. Hope you don't run Section 2 dry paying for your informant's info."

"Travis is a good man. Even he has standards. Don't ask me about the details. We've been doing this for years."

"Remember Chen, anybody could buy you out." Kinsler said.

"Fair point Human." Chen said respectfully "Needless to say we should watch our step."

"Seconded." Borden said. "I'd prefer we _not_ run into an ambush."

Granger looked at the information. "Brush off your Old English boys. We're going to Snottingham."

"Bloody Hell." Kinsler groaned.


	4. Chapter 4: Mercia

Chapter 4: Mercia

April 4th, 3237, 0821 hours

UNSC Mercia Detatchment

Mobius

"Ah!" Granger said stepping from his transport. "Smell that Mercian air."

"Smells like shit it does." Kinsler said. "Did we step back in time or summat like that?"

"Why?" Borden asked with a bag strapped over his shoulder. "Recent census studies have shown that Mercians are advancing much more rapidly."

Kinsler looked at Borden in amazement. "Listen to yourself, mate! These bloomin' idiots are following fucking _Feudalism_. We got the King, God bless him, but even that follows the system of constitutional monarchy!"

"Lou, you're getting excited." Granger said, ears twitching from the man's yelling.

"I know I am! I know I've never been here before but--"

"Lou, calm down." Granger said. Kinsler took a deep breath and said,

"And now I'm fine. Let's go."

They descended the stairs leading to whatever poor excuse for a tarmac there was. Their transport, a directed thrust craft known as a Spectre. Stubby wings tilted as the pilots ensured that they were still active for the return flight.

"You Matt Granger?" A voice said. At the foot of the steps was a Mobian Military Police member with an assault rifle in hand.

"Yeah."

"Welcome to Fort Lorry, the fabled nomad UNSC base. You got lucky, we're close to the actual city of Mercia now. Two weeks from now, we could be somewhere near Dover."

"How do you move this equipment, soldier?" Matt asked.

"All of our gear is either light enough to be man-portable or stored on a transport, or buildings have wheels and can be hauled by a truck. Even the landing strips are moveable."

"Efficient. How do you draw power?" Borden asked.

"Hundred Percent solar, sir. We truly are a green base. Mobian Cabinet actually commended us for it."

"Good man. You know about our investigation?"

"Only a little bit. I'm not high enough on the food chain for that."

"Where's our A.O.?"

"That prefab over there." the MP pointed. It was a half-pipe ornate with scanning devices, wind socks, barometers, a satellite dish, and a LADAR scanner.

"That looks like a God-damned weather tent."

"Well, it kind of is."

"Damn it."

"Well, ONI had a good reason for it. Aparently you needed a map or topographical scanner like that, this prefab has the best equipment here, that's saying a lot since we're in the perpetual Renaissance Faire.

"You don't have an Ops Center, or satellite uplink?"

"Off limits, sir. With all due respect, the Colonel doesn't trust you, you being a Spook and all."

"Listen, Marine, I--"

"Sir," Borden said trying to calm his superior down, "we have an investigation to preform, we should get it done before more people get hurt."

Matt nodded. "You're right. Marine, lead us there."

The MP keyed in the code and the door slid open. At once, motion detectors snapped the lights on. "The room was used to help moniter meteorlogical activity but sometimes the duty gets swapped to another base. It's empty today."

Granger saw the table/computer. It warmed to his touch and projected the globe and the shattered moon. "Yes, yes! This is perfect. How close can we see?"

"You can zoom onto a space the size of a dime and get extensive detail. This is real-time camera footage knitted together from hundreds of satellites."

"It gets the moon as well?"

"Naturally."

"Solid piece of hardware." Kinsler commented. "I like it."

"Well, we have the Seal of Approval." Chen said laughing.

"That's enough, Sergeant. We're good."

"Yes sir." the MP said. "I'll leave it unlocked."

The door closed behind them.

"OK, so we're looking for a church." Borden said.

"That's a pretty wide definition." Kinsler said. "Have to narrow it down. Christian Church? Mormon Tabernacle? Jewish Synagogue? Mayan Temple?"

"What?" Chen said with a half laugh.

"Sorry, mate. Couldn't resist." he said smiling toothily.

"Check the entire area in Wessex."

"OK, let's type in the co-ordinates...Stand by..." When Kinsler pressed the 'execute' key, the entire globe started to turn. The area that the camera focused on was the area that on Earth would be England. Kinsler had actually been to Essex many times as a child, being born into a well-off London family. "There we are. Just let me feed a baseline image into the scanner..." He opened up a search engine, plucked an overhead image of a Christian church.

"Thing about Mercia," Granger said, "is that since their technology is so dirt-poor, and their culture is backwards, religion is widely popular. Be ready if you get a lot of responses."

The computer beeped.

"OK, coloring in the area..." Kinsler said manipulating the controls. The area began to fill itself in. It actually felt like the men were looking over a floating plate of land.

"That's a cool trick." Chen said.

"Well, this is a surprise...There's only three accurate hits." Kinsler said. "You see, the basic design for a church is a cross overhead. Reasonably, no church from the time Humans roamed this Earth would have survived, so that means there should be a few at the most, five hundred years old. Computer, bring up the locations of the three churches, mark their co-ordinates, and then store for future reference."

The console beeped.

"There we go. Bob's your uncle. Let's check for the others."

Kinsler ran the search three more times. One Jewish Synagogue on the area's borders.

"OK, possible outlier." Granger admitted.

"Well, that was surprising." Kinsler admitted.

"OK, here's the plan: We split up. These churches are located in a fifty-mile radius at the widest point. Three hogs, stay in constant contact. No guns, don't want to scare the locals. Keep your M6s handy. Some people may be a little surprised by our equipment." Granger had this all thought out. Whoever found Gerdenwald first would radio, and the guys would be there within the hour.

"Move out gentlemen. Time is of the essence!"

* * *

Kinsler was riding with Chen. The Hog rumbled out of the Fort and coasted along whatever road there was. Mercia had no major cities, only the minor city-states that fell outside of Mobian jurisdiction. While the Acorns were seen as the big players, in truth, the planet didn't totally belong to them. Actually, the King's cousin ruled a major kingdom in Mercia. The citizens spoke in an ancient English dialect, were freaked with spaceships and guns, and had no concept of a world beyond their own.

"I like this place." Chen admitted. "No pollution."

"Too quiet for me." Kinsler argued. "London was home. Big Ben woke me up every morning to go to school, and I would walk by Buckingham Palace every day to go home. Just can't get that here."

"Uh...what's Big Ben?"

"Never mind."

"Well, as you can tell, I haven't been to London."

"Listen, Zhou, you haven't even moved your arse out of Seattle! The only other place in the United States you've ever been to was Michigan! Closest you've ever been to Canada was Detroit!"

"What's this Kan-a-duh?"

"Case in bloody point."

Chen saw a marker up ahead.

"Heads up boss, we're coming up on a town."

"_Copy. Remember, speak with a clear voice and they might understand you_."

The town was small, only around twenty or so houses. As soon as the jeep pulled into the town, people stopped what they were doing. Children stopped playing ball and looked at the newcomers with curiosity.

"Alright, Coon-boy, you're up."

"Me? What makes you think I can talk to them?"

"I...no reason..."

A child walked up to the jeep.

"Good morrow, sirs!" She squeaked. "What be thy names?"

"Lou Kinsler."

"Zhou Chen."

The child giggled "Methinks your names be odd."

An adult came by and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I apologize my good men. My eldest daughter Tamriel. She is but friendly in her endevours. How may I assist thee?"

Kinsler cleared his throat. Time to put that Shakespeare to work. "Our...presence is but based on a deed most vile. A villian hath slain those of my kin."

"Oh villian! This truly is a dark deed. Tamrial, I beg you to play with your friends. I must discuss this matter at hand."

"As you wish." Tamrial said and went back to playing with a ball.

"Sweet kid." Kinsler said.

"Verily." Her father, a field mouse said.

"Uh...With utmost haste...I beseech from you an answer to our plight. The villian hath allies in th'region, hidden behind th'land, hath thou an ear to the ground?"

"I knowst not what you speak good sir."

"OK." Kinsler said, having enough of this. "I have just used up all of my Shakespeare I saved from high school. Is there a blooming man in this town who can speak our language?"

"Thou dost require a man of tongues?"

"Verily."

"I beseech you a moment."

The man left and in a few minutes returned with a porcuipine who was dressed like a vicar. "Father Joseph. He speaks in the tongues of many. He can help."

"My thanks, child of God." Joseph said. He turned to Kinsler and Chen.

"Good afternoon gentlemen. I daresay I would have preferred to meet under more favorable circumstances. Jerimiah tells me that you are investigating a murder?" He stared at Kinsler. "My, my! You are a tall Human, and very dark skinned!"

"Move along, vicar." Kinsler urged, not smiling.

"I apologize gentllemen. I am not familiar with your race."

"You're the priest here?"

"Indeed. I comonly preside over that church over yonder."

"So it is not abandoned."

"I surely hope not. I must preach the Lord's word on the Sabbath."

_Well that's just bloody brilliant_. Kinsler thought.

"Sir, if it helps, I have heard rumors of an abandoned church not far from here in a town called Welsborne. It's larger than this villiage, a few hundred people at least, no more than a thousand."

"Actually that does help. Excuse me, I need to tell my leader about this." Kinsler tapped his ear COM set while Chen looked around. "Boss."

"_Go, Lou_."

"We checked the first target. Met a preacher. Told us the church wasn't abandoned at all."

"_Well, one down_."

"He did give us some good news." Chen put in. "There's an old church in a place called Welsborne that's been empty for years."

"_Welsborne. Hang on, I know that place._" Granger punched in the name and pinpointed it. "_Got it. According to your location, it'd take you twenty five minutes to reach the place. Borden, what's your 20_?"

"_I am cruising, boss. Just got your beacon. I can reach Welsborne in ten minutes_."

"_Copy that. I'm...12 minutes out. wait at the borders and we'll RV with the rest of the team._"

* * *

The sun was nearing its apex. Today, there was slight overcast which kept Sol from view. All around Granger, birds were tweeting. Almost like Jethro, only there was no ocean in sight, something that Matt was used to going outside for school every day. He had linked up with Borden nearly ten minutes ago.

Matt was bored. He got bored easily. Life on a Navy ship had been a drastic change to his personality. Prior to the Human arrival, Matt liked to take things slow and steady. Now that he was with ONI, it was always, file a report, watch people, watch security camera, conduct research, write a paper, file a report, wash, rinse, repeat. Now, he had nothing to do but watch grass frow. Granger almost considered taking up smoking. the Captain of the _Virginia_ always had a smoke on his off-hours. Despite the risk, he'd only do it to pass the hours away.

"You see them yet?" Granger asked.

"No."

"Hey, LT? Why don't we just storm the church right now and get Gerdenwald?"

"It might be an ambush. I want backup when we arrive. Chen and Kinsler might not be able to react quickly enough should we come under fire."

"We got the M1500 ready?"

Granger went to the rear of the hog, popped open a floor panel and retrieved an M1500 Close Assault Weapon System. He racked the shotgun's pump and red rounds into the reciever. "I've never actually fired one of these things before." he confessed.

"Hear it's just like an M6." Borden said.

"I call Bullshit."

"Heh, I'd bet. That thing looks like it'd pulverize your arm if you so much as tilt your wrist wrong. What sort of ammo we using?"

Granger picked a shell out of a rack on the side of the gun. "12 Gauge. Lots of little pellets."

"Could just pump into the walls, hope it kills the guards."

"If there_ are_ any. Ther might be solid steel behind the wood. There might be defense turrets."

"Sir, it's a _church_."

"Hey, gets people to go to confession." He flipped on the M1500's safety and slid it into the passenger seat of his hog.

_Heh. Shotgun._

"Wait one, I think I see them." Borden said shielding his eyes.

A Warthog jeep cleared a hill and thundered down a pathway. Mercia. No speed limit. Kinsler swerved to avoid a pack of trees and a surprised looking farmer who was tilling the opposite field. The farmer yelled Old English curses at the boys and they continued on their way. Kinsler cut the engine and climbed out. The farmer was still looking at him angrily, whiskers and ears tilted backwards menacingly.

"_Blimey_!" Kinsler said wide-eyed. "They sure could cuss in Old English, I reckon."

Chen was equally stunned. "Yeah, there's stuff there I've never heard of before."

Granger smiled and adjusted his jacket. A Roman numeral 'II' was stitched on the inside to signify his position in ONI. Actually, Section 2 was propoganda, but some sections of NCIS worked more in secrecy to protect people from major threats. In theory, that was the purpose of propoganda in the first place. Some NCIS agents were more secret than Section 1, but WAY less than Section 3 or 0. These were the subject of 'Ghost' stories, as the Spooks here did not divulge any information refering to their work. Granger promised himself that he would never take a promotion into Section 3 or Section 0, no matter how much of a salary increase.

"Still with us, sir?" Chen asked.

Granger snapped out of it. "Sure. Alright gentlemen, whenever you're all ready." He retrieved his shotgun. Kinsler hefted a heavy caliber handgun, Chen with an assault rifle, and Borden only with his holstered M6. "We're in."

Matt pushed open the door. Inside, there was nothing but a ransacked chapel. Pews were cast aside, some of the stainglass windows were broken, a figure of Matthew Mobius, a Human scientist that the planet was named after was missing his face, and a picture of Jesus Christ was nealy gone from the window. There was a musty smell in the air, the smell of death and decay. If anything, they would have given this church fifty more years before it collapsed on itself.

"Nothing. God _damn it_!" Kinsler said kicking a stone. He held in a silenced scream as his big toe was crushed.

"You think that vicar was feeding us bullshit?"

"No, no." Matt said keeping his shotgun raised. "That guy sounded honest?"

"Yeah, he was the only interpreter in the town."

Matt considered it. His tail waved in thought. "Borden, assesment?"

"Well, this place is certainly abandoned, no doubt about that. I think I'm willing to be fifty percent of my pay that this is the place."

"Only fifty?"

"Well, we did pass off that other church."

"Fair enough. For right now, look around for anything that can suggest that someone is hiding here."

"Yes sir." They all said.

They hopped to it. Kinsler moved some of the benches around, Chen worked by looking on walls for any indent or clue. Borden and Granger searched for any scrap of paper that might reveal to them a secret location. So far, nothing.

"DAMNIT! Chenny, your contact must be taking a piss! There ain't nothing here to look at!"

Chen narrowed his eyes in thought. "No, Trevor wouldn't double-cross me. We were friends."

"He was your _contact_." Granger shouted across the hall. "He was _not_ your _friend_. And another thing, we _paid_ him to get info. Someone may have paid him _more_ so we would be led off!"

"Well, that's looking like a strong possibility...Hold on a second." Borden said.

"What's up?" Granger asked.

"Hold on..." Borden noticed a grainy material near an organ. He reached into his pack and drew out a scoop. He took some of the material and looked at it. "Look at this..."

"What?" Granger asked again. "What do you see?"

"Grainy, black, consists of...nitrocellulose, tiny specks of magnesium oxide, petroleum jelly, possibly other additives...matches the consistancy of smokeless gunpowder."

"Oh I _love_ projectile weapons!" Chen said in triumph. "Always gunshot residue!" He stared at Kinsler with a smug smile. "God bless you, Trevor."

"Not so fast, Skippy." Granger said seriously. "All we have is gunpowder. That only tells us the presence of weapons. It doesn't say when Gerdenwald was here. He may be halfway to the Land of a Million Lights by now..." then, something caught Granger's eye. On the organ, a spread of songsheets were placed on the rack. Some were old, but one was way too recent to be anything other than suspicious. It was blank, but instead of notes, there were names in that order, _Ezekial, Genesis, Exodus, Chronicles,_ and _Daniel_.

"What do we have here?"

"Looks too new to have been forgotten." Kinsler said.

"My thoughts exactly."

Borden looked at the paper. "These are Bible books."

"Say again?" Granger asked.

"Genesis, Ezekiel, Exodus." These are all books that have been taken from the bible.

"What does it mean?" Granger said. Then, the wheels started turning. "It's a clue."

"Nice. Give prospective buyers a hint that you're in town." Kinsler noted.

"...and we have to play the notes!" Chen reasoned.

"Bingo." Borden finished.

Suddenly, the men looked at each other uneasily.

"So, uh..." Granger said clearing his throat. "...anybody know how to play piano?"

There was silence for a split second.

"You're shitting me, right? You don't know?" Borden asked.

"Well, do you?"

"Well, no, now that you asked."

Suddenly, Kinsler got an idea. "Oop! This is perfect." he reached into his bag and pulled out a cylinder.

"Sean?"

"Yeah. Has the basic intelligence of your standard _Brittanica_, but that's more than enough for what we need." he pressed a power button. "Oi! Wake up, me bloke! Sean! We have a job for you."

"I'd appreciate it, squire, if you wouldn't yell at me!" The AI appeared in a haze of purple-blue light. Sean was clad in a European football jersey. Like Kinsler, his skin was tanned dark, despite the blue tinge. "Well, on with it then, you mongrel! What do you need?"

"He's very rude, isn't he?" Borden said.

"Oi! I have my right to speak, pissant!" Borden snapped his mouth shut in surprise and outrage.

"Made his personality after me dad. Even had the accent." He smiled.

"So lay it on me, guv'nah. What say you?"

"Sean, boyo, we need a piano layout."

"What?!"

Kinsler took a breath. "Sean, we need the layout of a piano, and the keys of a standard octave."

"Truly you suprise me, Leige. Blimey, you design me to assist you in rudiment'ry cybernetic and informative analysis, and I'm reduced to assisting you with basic instrumental key layouts. Wasted talent, that is."

"Oi!" Lou said, "Want me to put you back in Sleep Mode?"

"No, don't do that, cricket match is about to crop up on ol' Terra Firma. Indonesia versus England. I predict a three wicket lead from the boys back home."

"Focus, Sean." Granger urged.

"Alright, alright, keep your trousers on, Furry."

"Dad's personality?" Granger said bitterly at the mention of the racial slur.

"Not that one."

Sean realized he said something he shouldn't have. "I'm on it."

The instant he left, a piano appeared in mid air. "_Alright, you got your basic keys A,B,C,D,E,F, and G. All of them are aranged on a line, so every time an octave ends, another begins. Good?_"

"Go on." Borden said.

"_Now, you can play flats or sharps depending on which direction you're going--_"

"Not important, just label the keys." Granger corrected.

"_Gotcha_."

The letters appeared on an example octave.

"Do you think they have to be played in order?" Chen asked.

"Only one way to find out." Granger said. Matt tapped the first key: E. It made a deep rumbling coming through the pipes. "Holy hell!"

"Oh the irony." Chen said to Kinsler, who giggled.

he tapped the G, then the E again. the C, and finally the D.

Something sparked behind them. A section of the wall appeared to be faked, replaced by a solid hologram, based on Forerunner technology no less.

"A fake wall?"

"_Rigged to follow a note combination, no doubt. Bloody brilliant!_"

"My thoughts exactly." Kinsler said. "Good booy, Sean. Call you if I need you."

"_Aww...I'm gonna miss the cricket match_!"

"I'll wake you later."

"_You'd batter, mate!_"

Kinsler stuffed the projector back into his pack and joined the guys.

"Little trip into the catacombs scare anyone?" Matt asked with a sly smile.

"You _know_ I hate bodies, LT." Chen said.

* * *

Just as described in movies, the catacombs were scary. Since this church was close to five hundred years old, whatever Humans that were still alive had their remains placed here. Some of the coffins were opened and the bodies had been looted.

"I'm looking for a red-eyed skull. I know there's gotta be a camera somewhere." Chen said.

"I'm actually expecting a trip wire or something." Borden said checking the floor ahead.

"Either there's a trap, or he's actually expecting customers." Granger concluded.

They rounded the corner and got a slight shock. In a roughly thirty foot room, an old man sat at a table carefully assembling an assault rifle. He was quite old, as he was wearing thick spectacles and his hands shook from Parkinsons Disease, an illness that never quite got wiped out with medical advances. He was humming a tune and didn't even look up at them.

"Come in gentlemen. Come in. I see you figured out the password. Not many do. I haven't seen so many around. Perhaps I should expand my audience."

"You knew we were here?" Granger asked.

"Have you ever played a pipe organ before, son?" Gerdenwald asked with a chuckle. "Oh...kids today."

"So, you sell weapons and ammunition?" Matt added.

"Have for forty-five years now. The best in the business. Better than the rest of the business." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "This is why I only give out requests to the _best_ clients. And, well, since you found the place, I'm guessing you're here to buy."

"Hang on, can we ask a question first?" Borden asked.

"Time is money. You know how much this costs? Make it quick."

"Why Mobius of all places? There are plenty of spots back on Earth or the Inner Solar System for you to stay."

"You could say I am something of a traditionalist. I've seen pictures of what my home country Austria used to look like. It was beautiful. Not as many buildings or docks or factories, just beautiful rolling hills."

"So why not go to the Mobian Austria?"

"No, that would be too obvious for anybody studying me."

Granger decided to get the issue back on track. "So, what sort of rounds have you got?"

"Ah, plenty." Gerdenwald pulled out a box. Each round was unique. "You see? Spear heads, poison injecting rounds, mini explosives, fin-stabalized grenades, thermite rounds, many, many more."

Granger's ear twitched. "Much of this is illegal."

"Erm...not _entirely_ illegal but mostly frowned upon by the UNSC."

"We heard from a contact that you could supply us with special rounds.

"Really? Could you...erm...describe the rounds to see if I have them in stock?"

"Hollow-tipped, rubberized, good at penetrating and rebounding." Chen said.

"Ah! Oh Yes!" He reached into a box and retrieved a pistol magazine with the special rounds.

"Look but don't touch. These are quality made rounds. Hybrids. Normally, these wouldn't pass weapon inspections, which is another reason why I arrived on Mobius. I recieved unaltered rounds from Misriah and did the work here. Naturally this is for a special cause."

"What sort of special cause?" Kinsler asked.

"Uh-uh-uh...let's discuss payment. Fifty thousand for a set of twenty. Non-negotiable, take it or leave it."

Granger decided to end the charade. "Tell you the truth pal, we're not here to buy."

"Eh? What do you..."

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthew Granger, Office of Naval Intelligence. Your operation is over Gerdenwald."

"Oh FUCK!" The old man said slamming his fist on the table. He raised a pistol and squeezed off three rounds. Because of his shaking hands, all he hit was the centuries-old structure. The team raised their weapons and Granger placed the barrel of his M1500 against the man's head.

"Freeze. Drop the pistol. If you so much as point that thing at me, your head's gonna come apart like a ripe melon. This baby is the sledgehammer." he pummped the gun, causing a loaded shell to hit the floor for extra effect.

Gerdenwald looked around. Chen with his assault rifle, Borden and Kinsler with their pistols, and finally his eyes edged towards Granger with his assault shotgun. He trembled, and then dropped the gun. Borden swiped it away as soon as it hit the wood.

"Isn't this nice." Granger said with a sly smile. "Forty-five years of illigal arms making,smuggling, and an accessory to murder. That'll put you away for a long time, Mister Gerdenwald. I doubt you'll see the end of your sentence."

"Please..." he said. "...I swear I had nothing to do with that murder." He said with his eyes locked on Matt's. His wide emerald eyes met Matt's icy blue. "All I was told when I was contracted was that it was for a holy cause. I swear."

"Holy cause?" Kinsler asked.

"Yeah, some religious cult. Call themselves the _Children of Mobius_ or something like that! was just paid to do the job!"

"Do you know what they're about?"

"No. All that happened was that I was contacted privately by one of their represntatives, They're a cult!"

"How big are they?"

"Large enough to afford almost a truckfull of this ammunition. I had to call in favors!"

"Give me a name."

"I don't know."

"Well, isn't that a shame. Chen, you see a revolver?"

"Oh yes, there's one right here."

"Toss me it."

Chen took the revolver and threw it to Matt, who caught it and cracked open the gun. "Let's see. Spear head, poison head, AH! How about this little beauty, a slow, stinging incediary shrapnel."

"I think its a winner." Borden said. Matt placed the round into the carousel and sealed the revolver. For good measure, he spun the gun.

"Let's play Russian Roulette. I trust you know the rules?"

"_YOU'RE CRAZY!_"

He placed the gun at the man's head. "This round probably won't kill you right away, but you will suffer a slow, burning death. Give me a name."

"I SWEAR TO GOD I DON'T KNOW!"

He pulled the trigger. _Click_

"One down, five to go. You want to keep playing this game?"

"Let me go!"

"Give me a name and we'll end this."

"I...I promised I wouldn't tell! He'd kill me!"

Granger shrugged. "Odds aren't in your favor here either." _Click._

"Let me go you fucking furry!"

"Oh, so not wise." _Click, click_.

Gerdenwald nearly cried the second time he pulled the trigger.

"Last chance, sir. I'm afriad that little outburt has shortened my patience. Truth be told, I am surprised you are not dead now. By the time I count to three, you're going to tell me what I want to know, or your brain's gonna pop like a corn kernal."

"That I'd pay to see, boss." Borden said, keeping Gerdenwald in place.

"One."

Silence

"Two"

"OKAY!"

Matthew slightly altered his aim and fired. The gun sounded like a firecracker and the piece of the wall burst into flames.

"Nice." Matt said.

"OK, speak."

"The guy he works for. His name is Gotam. That's all I know."

"What does the cult do?"

"The cult's goal is that they have been commanded by a divine right to eliminate their enemies."

"Who are their enemies?" Matt felt that he was getting close.

"Us. Human beings. Their goal is to kill as many Humans as they can."


	5. Chapter 5: Hunting the Beast

Chapter 5: Hunting the Beast

April 5th, 3237, 0718 hours

ONI Command Center, Castle Acorn

Mobius

_The Children of Mobius_

Matt kept thinking about that moment with Gerdenwald a few days ago in Mercia. His tail twitched in concentration for the past three days. Why? Why hadn't he heard about something like this before? He was a native to the planet, and there were only around 5 billion Mobians on the planet, most of them on the African analogue. So how could a cult this size exist and nobody ever thought about it? Actually, he reconsidered. Humans had only been on Mobius for three years at the most. That would place the formation of the cult around June of 3234 when the _Indomitable_ slipped in accidently. Granger knew off the bat that some citizens were unhappy with a new Human occupation. Actually, this caused Matt to reminisce about something in history called the Roosevelt Corollary where the United States asserted its right to occupy Caribbean nations all the way in 1904, over thirteen hundred years ago. Some Mobians went downright crazy, forming hate groups that asserted the right that this was _their_ planet.

Technically, Matt realized, it wasn't. If some folks did their history, they'd know that the Lost Million discovered Mobius and all of the sapient members were human crewmembers. Mobians as Matt knew them didn't appear until a few months after the landing. He sipped his coffee wondering what animal instinct drove their people to segregation.

_I see we still have a long way to go. We may dress nice and have government, but we're still just animals_.

Then came the real nuts. Sometimes, a citizen or two suddenly was convinced in a wave of stupidity that they could actually lead an armed rebellion against the UNSC, which, as Matt knew, was completely and utterly idiotic. Few gathered followers, and even less actually stuck to their mission statements. Those that did were quickly gunned down by organized, trained, and better equipped Marines and Army.

That's what puzzled Matt. How could a cult this size exist when history proved that Mobians here that organized coups were as malleable as fog? He also had to remind himself that there was always a first time for everything in the universe. Regardless, it was a rude awakening. He knocked back the rest of his coffee, belched, and set off to work. He didn't wear his regulation ONI uniform, but a leisure outfit of a Navy officer, which consisted of camoflaged pants, a white T-shirt with the UNSC eagle and anchor stamped on his left breast. The shoulders also showed insignea, in Matt's case, a single silver bar draped on either side.

The ONI's detachment on Mobius was smaller than most places. The building was small and was actually a converted dungeon in the basement. Despite the computer and volumetric displays, Matt couldn't shake off the cold feeling of death in this place.

He spotted his boys over near a console. For the past three days, they had been looking for any sort of connection to Gotam or the Children of Mobius. He kept thinking of the name, the irony, how a cult based on Mobian superiority came from a planet that was named after a Human. "Gentlemen."

"Morning, sir." Kinsler said yawning. "Beg your pardon. Been working all night, checking newspaper articles, Internet articles, any sort of information that can give us information on Gotam."

"And what have you got?"

"Shit all." Borden answered. "This bastard is good, very good. Most we've ever heard of him is on a few isolated Forums, most of them based on Mobian servers."

"Have you identified their usernames?"

"Yeah, and we've pinned their IP numbers so we can keep track of them. Possible status of cult members unknown."

"Good, and the others?"

"Urban legend site, open submission. This guy submitted it on a public terminal, so we can't trace him."

"Alright, so we have something. Just wish it was more--"

The computer started beeping. Chen started.

"What's that?" Granger asked.

"It's a subroutine Kinsler wrote. It's a notice should keywords referring to our case crop up in news reports!"

"Like what?" Human, murder, Mobian, Mass murder, the like. Gotten a few false leads in the past few days."

"Alright, switch to the television."

Kinsler tapped a key and switched it to MNBN, the Mobian News Broadcast Network, something like CNN.

A simian anchorwoman shuffled her papers while talking. "--_Police do not yet have any information regarding a mass murder yesterday in Mysterious Cat Country. Fifteen Humans, nine male, six female, were killed in a hail of gunfire. If you have been keeping up with recent news, only a few days ago, we reported on a homicide of four men at the Alexander Acorn Memorial Sports Center. The motives are unknown at this time but criminologists believe that there is racial tensions. The identity of the victims will be classified until next of kin are notified. Reporting live from the MNBN, I'm Courtney Sidhartha, we'll be back after this_."

Kinsler shut off the feed. "Twelve people..."

"They're bagging more bodies." Chen noticed.

"Yeah." Granger agreed. They're probably going to increase as well. This news feed doesn't help. It's just spreading the message, attracting more followers. Flies to a corpse, no dark pun intended."

Borden scoffed. "That sounded _entirely_ intended!"

"He's right." Kinsler agreed. "It's only a matter of time before The Galactic News Network gets a hold of it. GNN broadcasts into the next spiral arm!"

"We need something to act on." Granger said. "We need witness testimony."

"Fair enough. These poor blokes were gunned down in a town square. Don't know how those victims will react. Murder isn't something common on Mobius."

"I know." Granger said. They were a peaceful people, but reality had set in recently that they had shortcomings like everyone else. They were not perfect.

"I'll try to get a police report." Kinsler said. "See if I can get some information."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Chen said. "Flash the badge, flash the gun, we can get things done."

"Good plan." Granger said, "Except it'll take more than classic cop moves to get what we need. We need to persuade. These aren't civilians. If we need to kiss ass, then we do it."

"Yeah? What if he wants me to bl---"

"ANYTHING THEY NEED." The Lieutenant said abruptly.

* * *

Also known as the South American Analogue, this place was as hot, damp and wild as it was on Earth. Scattered around the continent were small cities and settlements. Now, the place where they were focusing on was Reoh, which was obviously what was left of Rio de Janiero. Over 12,000 years, the ruins of the city were swallowed by jungle. The only place that connected it to its old Earth past was the statue of Jesus, arms stretched over the ocean. A city had thrived, mostly populated by a feline population. A few Humans, but not much.

The Specter glided over Reoh. In the mid-afternoon light, the city was alive, especially the markets. Were it not for the news broadcast, the team would have doubted a murder had even taken place here.

"Look at this place!" Chen commented.

"Blimey." Kinsler added. "This place is alive!"

The Specter landed twenty minutes later. Local military greeted them. They were not UNSC, which made Matt suspect that they did not trust them. The leader spoke in what Matt could assume was Portuguese. He was a jaguar with dark brown eyes. The interpreter stood next to the colonel.

"He wishes you welcome to Reoh." the interpreter said. "He also wishes to know what business the UNSC has in the city."

Granger placed a pair of dark sunglasses on his face. Sweat matting his fur. "We're here about the mass homicide the other day. And we are not UNSC. We're ONI."

The interpreter blinked, his whiskers twitched and he turned to the colonel. He muttered to him in Portuguese, relaying Granger's words.

"Oh-nee?" The man said in surprise.

Granger didn't know what else to do. He nodded, not showing emotion.

The colonel actually narrowed his eyes and shouted at the interpreter. The young man turned to Granger.

"He does not trust ONI."

Granger cracked a half-smile. "Neither do I."

The colonel laughed and spoke to the interpreter

"He says he likes you." The interpreter said. "You have our support if you need it."

"All we need right now is transport." The Lieutenant said. "We need to get to the police station, get information relating to the murder, and we want to see the bodies."

"He says he can do that."

"Good, thank you."

The colonel attempted to speak English. "You are welcome."

Granger saluted. Borden did the same. The military colonel saluted back and turned to leave.

"Oh, before we forget, we will send drivers for you." The interpreter added.

"Thanks again!"

Granger sat shotgun while a calico in dark sunglasses drove the jeep. It was different than the feel of an M12 LRV. Kinsler sat under whatever shade there was and Chen made catcalls to the ladies on the street.

"_Hey ladies! Buenos Dias, chica!_"

"You're making a complete arse of yourself, Coon-boy. That's Spanish, not Portuguese"

"Shut the hell up, Blackie!"

"Oh, so we're on offensive names then, you little blighter?"

"Look, don't you dare use the F word on me Lou!"

"I know. I don't want to degrade myself to your level."

"You know, that wasn't very funny."

Granger tuned the boys out. "So, what's your name?"

"Federico, sir!" The calico said over the sound of the engine. "You can call me Rico!"

"You know, no offense, but you don't look very Brazilian." Borden interjected.

"You know, you aren't the first to say that, sir." Rico said shrugging. "I guess since you Humans look different depending on location of origin, your skin's different. _Meu Deus_, the only time I ever see my skin is when I shave too close." He chuckled heartily. Borden laughed as well. He appreciated it when the military had a sense of humor. It made them human. So to speak.

"So, you are interested in Humans?"

"I'm interested in anybody who looks different than I do." Rico admitted. Hell, every day I meet someone I'm interested in. There's species I have never seen before, like you, Stripes." He said gesturing to Chen.

"Huh?" he wasn't paying attention.

"Oh, even better. That guy back there, dark skin?" he meant Kinsler. "Strip him down, get some Night Vision Goggles and he's the perfect ninja!"

Kinsler frowned. "That _wasn_'t funny."

"See what I mean?" Zhou asked.

"Are you interested in the Navy, or even the Marines?" He mentioned 'Marines' with a bit of disdain. Traditionally, Navy felt superior to the ground pounders on principle. For all he cared, the word 'Marine' had a simple acronym: My Ass Rides In Navy Equipment. Thank you very much, good night.

Rico shook his head though. "Nah, man. Things are quiet down here, you get me? This murder's been the most exciting thing in Reoh since the Humans showed up in '34."

"I hear that." Granger agreed.

"Oop, here we are." Rico said, almost sad they were going. "Reoh PD, just as ordered Master."

"You're driving us back?" Borden asked.

"Yeah."

"See you then."

"_Sim_, I'm good with that. _Ir _my babe!" he said to his car and it sped off.

Granger shook his head. "That guy's nuts."

"Yeah, I've met squirrels saner." Chen agreed.

* * *

The inside of the building was air-conditioned, but it was not the prettiest place in the world.

"You know," Granger said to the rest of the guys. "I see these places and think how lucky we are Knothole is so advanced."

"Mind blowing." Chen added.

"The closest thing we have are the colonies, I reckon." Kinsler said. "Personally I've never been, but I suppose that anything out there is less than what we have on Earth."

They pondered this as they approached the front desk.

"Excuse me..." Granger began, but the receptionist spoke in a language he couldn't understand. She was a cop though. She wore two gold hoops through her pointed ears, and her hair was braided. Perhaps Reoh PD didn't have major dress codes for their officers.

"English!" Granger said clearly. "Can you speak English?"

"Who are you gentlemen?" a man said.

An Echidna with straight dreds walked into the area. "Captain Fransisco Delamonda" He extended his hand which Matt took.

"Matt Granger, Office of Naval Intelligence."

"_Que_?"

"Sorry. We're attached to the UNSC."

"Sorry, what's that?"

"Oh _Jesus Christ_." Kinsler said with a facepalm.

"You don't know what the UNSC is." Granger said unbelievingly.

"Sir look, I gotta major police department to run here, you feel me? I have seventy officers reporting under me alone."

"We're attached to the Human military."

"Well, that makes sense. Why didn't you say so before? The look on your face says it all. Brayzil is a poor country, _senhor _Granger. We have little concern with the world much farther than this. If you talk to me about space travel, I'm afraid I'm not your guy, understand?"

"Yeah." Granger said simply.

"Good. So what _can_ I do for you, gentlemen?" Delamonda asked.

"We're investigating a mass homicide spree."

"Ah, a 1038? You mean the ones this morning?"

"Yeah, those twelve that were gunned down." Borden said.

"Yeah, I was the one who was on-site. Shame. Lotsa good people they were. At least half had families. I was the one to tell them." He closed his eyes sadly. "So, what about it?"

"The people that killed those Humans, they are part of a cult called the Children of Mobius, an extremist group that seek the destruction of Humans on this planet, possibly farther."

"That's terrible. It really is." Delamonda said.

"We would like to speak to the victims so we can get an accurate description of the suspect."

"That's difficult to do. I mean, most of the witnesses are pretty traumatized. Some of them have requested counseling. Actually, hang on..." He walked away for a second and returned with a clipboard. "Well, thank Mobius, looks like we have a woman in for questioning. Her name...Natalina Questila, Species...Snowshoe Rabbit."

"A Snowshoe Rabbit?" Kinsler asked surprised. "In a place like this?"

"You sound surprised _senhor_."

"Well, I sort of am."

"You're here. You're sweating like crazy."

"Difference is, I'm busting my arse for a job."

"Aren't we all, man? Aren't we all?" He signed the paper on his clipboard. "OK, I can get you signed in. She's in Interrogation. Follow me."

They followed the Captain past a row of desks, down a set of stairs and into the Interrogation cells. Like the rest of the city, there was lo-tech stuff, like more traditional hinged doors. "Just wait out here a moment."

"Sure." Granger nodded. Delamonda disappeared inside the room and reappeared twenty-five seconds later with another officer.

"OK, you're good. Don't work her over too much."

"I'll go first." Granger said. "If you need to come in, do so. Otherwise, behind the mirror."

Natalina had gone through her tenth tissue. In her opinion, nothing could repair how scared she was and what she saw the other day. She sniffed noisily and blew her nose. When the door opened, her ears stood erect in surprise.

"Miss Questila?"

"Yes. That's me."

"I am Lieutenant Matthew Granger."

"You're not a police officer are you?" She asked nervously. "Look, I already told them everything I know."

"I'm not a police officer. I'm an operative in the Office of Naval Intelligence. Do you know what that is?"

"ONI? They have ONI looking into this?"

That caught Granger off-guard. "How much do you know about ONI?"

"Enough. I'm a student at Knothole U, applying for masters in Intelligence and astrophysics."

"That still doesn't explain how you know about ONI."

"You don't think they do tours?"

Matt opened his mouth for a second then snapped it shut.

"Really? They do that?"

"Where have you been Navy? Under a rock?"

"Hawking Expanse FYI."

"Oh, I'm _sorry_!" Questila said sarcastically.

"Listen Natalina. 12 people have been killed and you know what the suspect looks like."

"That's not entirely true. I only saw a glimpse of him."

"Can you show me?"

Natalina then realized that there was a sheet of paper and a pencil in front of her. "You want me to..."

"Just give me an idea of what the suspect looked like."

She looked at the pencil. "Will I be safe?"

"I can even have you relocated in case afterwards."

Natalina then started to tear up.

"Are you alright?"

"No..." She reached into her pocket and retrieved a gold locket. She opened it up and showed it to Granger. A young Human male with sandy hair and piercing blue eyes stood with a half-grin in front of the camera."

"His name was Will."

"Ma'am...I'm sorry."

"We we running, next thing I knew he started to fall behind, then he fell to the ground, told me to run. I never saw him again." She blew into her tissue. "We met from the very beginning. He was a medic aboard the _Gentle Sheppard_. Soldiers were the first to go to Mobius. I...he was just so charming..." She sniffed once, then took the pencil and started to draw. "I'll do this for him."

She was good. Very good. Matt noticed this. "You're very nice with that pencil."

"I was great at art as a child." Natalina admitted. "When I grew up, I turned my sight to intelligence and astrophysics. I felt art had no place in the modern world."

"With respect, not a smart way of looking at things." Matt said.

"What?"

"If you're good at something, you should run with it, not just take something else because your desires had no place here. Why did I join the Navy? Because I believed I was doing a great thing and was exploring what few men dare to take up."

Natalina looked at the paper for a second. "You're right." She said. "But I can't just switch like that."

"I'm not expecting you to."

She then said, "Would you like shading?"

"That's not necessary." Granger said.

"Alright, then here." She said handing him the paper.

"Wow. That was fast."

"Crazy huh?"

Matt took the sheet, looked at it for a second, and said, "Thank you very much Natalina."

"Wait! About that relocation?"

"Right. I'll talk to Naval Intelligence about that. We can set you up on a colony somewhere or..."

"I want to go to Earth."

"...OK. Alright. I can make that happen."

"I never thought I'd ever say it, but I don't feel safe here anymore."

* * *

"So, she made you the drawing?" Chen asked.

"Yeah, and she was damn good at it too." Granger remarked with a smile. "She wanted to be an art student."

"Yeah, I heard." Kinsler remarked. "You think she would really throw that talent away to be a spook?"

"That's not for me to decide, Lou."

"I hear that, mate."

He showed Kinsler and Borden the picture first. "Looks like a male, thirty-something. Bear?"

"What?" Chen asked. "What was he?"

"A bear."

"No, can't be." Zhou said flicking his hand in dismissal.

"What's the issue, Zhou?"

"Well, I remember when you guys had me go to my contact at the club, we remember seeing something about some dude going batshit insane. He was a bear."

Kinsler folded his arms. "Remember Chenny, anybody can go head over tits and say they're a mass murderer."

"Yeah, but let's be sure here. Boss, you still have the video file of my undercover stuff?"

"Yeah." Granger said. He reached into his pocket and drew a USB device.

"Thanks." Zhou said taking it. He looked for a nearby terminal. He plugged it in and booted up the computer. "Old stuff. At least twenty years old."

"Hey, those computers are still in good shape." Delamonda protested.

Zhou opened the video file and fast-forwarded to the part where he and Trevor noticed the disturbance at the bar. Smashing his beer bottle against the bar was a bear, a fairly fit, thirty-something brown bear. Unlike the bears of Earth, he was less mass and more human-like. "That's him!"

"No shit. _That's _Gotam?" Kinsler said.

"I'm willing to bet on it. See the picture? he has a scar just below his jaw on the right, seems similar to this guy."

"Ho-lee shit." Kinsler said placing his hands behind his head in surprise. "The head of an extremist cult walked right by you blokes and you didn't even know it."

"Bad luck?" Zhou asked.

"Very." Granger answered. "If we knew who he was, we would have him right there and then."

"Well," Chen said. "Can't say this has happened to me on the force before."

"Now we have to find him." Borden said. "Let's find a hotel and plan on what we have to do."

"Agreed Borden." Granger said. "Alright gentlemen. Let's move."

Rico was waiting for them outside blasting music. He was wearing mirrored sunglasses so people couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

"Rico." Granger said, not being heard over the music.

"Think he's dead?" Chen asked.

"Nah, too carefree for that." Borden said.

"Want to throw something at him just to be sure?"

"Rico!" Granger said a little louder. Still no response. "For the love of...RICO! GET THE FUCK UP!" He slapped the cat.

"Hey, hey, hey!" He said with a start. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Sorry." Granger said. "You were sleeping like a baby."

"I know. Only in my music. You guys ever hear of a _cat nap_? I need my 18 hours, sir."

"Let's go."

"OK. Where you boys headed?"

"What's the best hotel in town?"

"_La Rabella_! Spent a night just to see what it was like. Overlooks the bay. You might never leave!"

"Take us."

The jeep sped off, music still coming out of the radio.

"How do you work with this?" Kinsler said over the music. "It's loud!"

"Honestly, I don't know, my man." Rico said laughing. "Cats normally have sensitive hearing. Sometimes they buy earplugs for vacuuming even. Guess I just adapted. Darwin's theory at work."

"God bless." Chen said. Mobians _were_ Darwin's theory. It was through their adaptations that they did survive and even begin their spacefaring stage just like Humans.

Granger never had time for evolutionary theories though. "Is your government ready to take extra steps to ensure nothing like this happens again?"

"Yeah." Rico said simply. "Twelve people dying at once isn't something that you just _ignore_, LT." They came to an intersection and honked his horn at a car that ran a red light. He swore in Portugese. "Man, the people around here! I tell you, every day a new asshole on the road."

"Couldn't you arrest him?" Granger asked curiously.

"Well, I would, but my orders are to haul you guys around...err...not that I have a problem with it." He averted his eyes. "OK, here we are, _La Rabella_!"

The hotel was easily one of the largest in the city. The peak stretched over two hundred meters into the air.

"Ayah..." Chen said in awe. "Very nice!"

"Remember boys, we're not here to run up Section 2's credit bill. We are not going to rent a villa."

"Killjoy." Kinsler muttered.

"Don't give me that face, Lou." He turned to Rico. "Thanks a lot, Rico."

"Don't worry. I'm here if you ever need me." He drove off, leaving them standing in front of the hotel.

* * *

"Ah, good afternoon, my friends!" The man at the front desk said. He was a Human with tanned skin. He was a Brazilian native come to soak up the Mobian sun.

"Four checking in."

"I see. OK. I can get you a room. Separate beds?"

"I think we'll be fine."

"Your choice sir." The man said. "On the card?"

Granger passed the ONI ID card.

"Oh! Oh...oh my...I didn't do anything!"

"Relax, we're not here to arrest you. We can't say nothing else." Kinsler growled, making sure they were attracting no attention.

"I understand, _signore_. Please, go right ahead."

"Thanks." Granger said.

The men stepped inside the elevator. An old woman was going up with them. Her whiskers were greying with age and massive glasses dominated her face. She noticed the four young men and asked, "_Você esta a policía_?"

"What did she say?" Granger asked.

"I think she wanted to know if we were the police." Chen said.

"Like we should trust you. You mix up Spanish and Portugese and suddenly you can interpret?" Kinsler growled.

"No, no, no. The language is similar."

Granger looked at the lady. "No. No _policía_."

"Ah..." The woman said. "_Disfarçado_?"

"She wants to know if we're undercover."

"Ma'am, we are not undercover. Translate, someone."

"_Senhora, não estamos a paisana_." Borden said. "Had a little Portugese study in high school." he admitted. "Large South American population on my planet."

The old women laughed. "_Mas você tem pistolas_." she said pointing to their belts. Granger realized with a shock that his M6's grip was poking in front of his jacket.

"Easy! Listen, we're not police!" he protested.

She was about to speak when the elevator pinged. "Ah! _Boa sorte com o inquérito!_" She walked out of the elevator and the doors closed.

"Well what the hell was that?" Chen asked. "How did she know we were investigating?"

"You mean besides our guns?" Kinsler asked. "Probably the LT. Stands so stiff it's like he's got a ten foot pole up his arse. Uh...sir." he added hastily after the death glare Granger delivered.

"That woman didn't even flinch when she saw our pistols!"

"This is a city of crime disguised with a lively atmosphere. Just like Rio. Think of Detroit, Kinsler."

"Right. Got it now."

_Ding_.

The door slid open and they emerged on the tenth floor. They swiped their ONI cards and entered their room. It wasn't luxurious, but it had a view of the bay, just as Rico described it. It was also exactly what they wanted. The men opened whatever cases they brought with them. Laptops, wireless adaptors, a miniature data server, and banks of encryption software. Setting this up on the tables, they were able to tap into any system on the globe and possibly beyond.

"We're gonna find those forum blokes now, right?"

"Damn straight, Kinsler." Granger said turning on his laptop. "You still have those IP adresses traced?"

"Yeah. Roundabout ten of them, I reckon."

"Find me the addresses, all of them. I don't care if we have to go to the moon and back, we have a lead. Get to work on finding those addresses; I'll call this in to ONI."

* * *

"_You're sure the information you retrieved is accurate_?" Dougherty asked over the communicator. The device looked like a phone but had the ability to tap into the superluminal communications grid of the warpgate.

"Yes sir." Granger said. "I'm sure of it. The witness' drawing of the gunman matches the person encountered in Chen's video.

"_Christ. You could have had him_."

"Had we known, we would have taken the opportunity, sir."

"_Understood Lieutenant. Are you certain this is Gotam though_?"

"I..." He had to stop and think about that one. The person that they drawn was never confirmed to be Gotam, only that he was present at the second shooting and at the Radian back in Knothole. That, in no way, confirmed his identity as the ringleader, but it did secure his position that he had something to do with the shooting, as he was present in two cities where the mass homicides took place. "...No sir. We are not actually certain that this man is Gotam." Granger's tail flicked around in frustration. "But we are sure he has something to do with the murders. According to witnesses, he was with three other gunmen and was the only one unmasked."

"_You have to give me something to work on Granger. This can't be a finger-pointing session. I need hard evidence to put this guy away._"

"I...I understand."

"_Very good. You are making good progress. Castle Acorn just forwarded me the autopsy reports. Doc Quack found several bullets lodged in parts of the victims' skeletal structure. Same hollow point rounds, and shell casings recovered suggest the same modified cartridges used in the murder._ _Good luck Granger. Call me when you have something solid._"

"Thank you sir. Goodbye." He clicked the phone off.

Kinsler was reading over the police reports. "Wait a tick, this is off. According to these reports, seventy shell casings were recovered from the crime scene but at the first murder, there was only one."

"They don't care anymore." Granger realized. "They don't care about modesty! God, they must be onto something, becoming more visible, making people realize they're a threat!"

"Sir," Boren said seriously. "That fits the bill of terrorism."

"Yeah. I guess now we have to eliminate this guy, any means are necessary. Got those addresses?"

"Printed out."

"OK. Get some sleep guys. We're going to pay a few people a visit in the morning.

* * *

"How much did you tell them?"

Federico squirmed for a second. "I swear, I didn't say anything!"

"Liar!"

"I don't know anything! Listen, I'm just a soldier."

"Soldier, civilian, there's no difference. Hell, you look kind of Human when you look at this angle...there." he pulled out a hunting knife.

"No, no, no! Don't do it!"

"Give me information."

"Yes, yes! Anything you want!"

"Who are these people?"

"They're ONI!"

The knife almost dropped. "Naval Intelligence?"

"Yeah. They're investigating a cult."

"How much do they know?"

"They went to a witness today, said that one of them was able to draw the face of a gunman. Matches with a video they took."

The knife grip was tighter suddenly it was up against Rico's throat.

"Where are they? Lie to me and I'll put a cut so deep in your throat, your spine will keep your head on!"

"_La Rabella! La Rabella_! They should still be there until the the mo-"

The knife flashed. A splash of crimson on the ground. Rico tried to grab his throat but fell flat on his face. The crickets resumed their night song.


	6. Chapter 6: Hampered Investigation

Chqpter 6: Hampered Investigation

April 6th, 3237, 0315 hours

Reoh, South American Analogue

_La Rabella_

The broken moon had started its descent. The sky was slightly white from its glow. Below, the city of Reoh was still relatively active considering the late hour. Cars were streaminng up and down broken roads, erchants were still ppeddling their wares for the public, and tourists still snapped photos of the ancient Jesus tatue. In the lofty hotel _La Rabella_, Granger and his men peacefully slept. Through the drawing of the fist coin they laid hands on in their pocket, they determined who got the beds. Matt was the first winner, drawing a five-dollar coin smugly. Kinsler came in second with a GSD "Toonie", or a two-dollar coin. Borden and Chen landed third and fourth drawing a quarter and a dime respectively.

"That was not fair!" Chen had said.

"It's not a question of fairness. Granger argued.

It was now many hours later. Night had fallen, and outside, the air was just as sticky annd humid as it was in the day. It was almost peaceful.

Chen woke himself up the second time tonight. The first was two hours ago to pee, and now, something didn't feel right.

"Mike!" he sharply whispered. They were both lying on the floor in front of the beds. Zhou tilted his head up to see Borden's."Mike!" he whispered again.

"Five more minutes..." he drowsily said. "I'll be...I'll be up by then..."

"Mike! wake up, man!" he said shaking the ensign awake. He immedietely was facing a pistol barrel. "Oh..."

"Chen?" Borden asked, still trying to wake himself up. "What the fuck man! I could have shot you!"

"Yes I can see that." Zhou agreed looking at the rifleing on the inside of the barrel. "You sleep with that thing?"

"Always slept with a gun."

"Well don't put it away just yet."

"Why?"

"I just had a very bad feeling."

"A feeling, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Chen, I have feelings every time I open _After Dark_."

"No!" he hissed. "Animal instinct! You think my species would have evolved without being able to sense danger?"

"Really? I thought you worried about getting into my garbage can."

"That _wasn't_ funny."

Suddenly, Borden's mouth dropped. "Chen...red dot!"

Chen whirled around, looking for what Borden was talking about. Then he saw it. Bounding around the wall was a crimson dot. "Oh shit! Oh shit!"

"Alright calm down." Borden said. He carefully slid off his blanket and crawled towards the Lieutenant's bed."

"LT!"

"mmmhmm...what?"

"Lieutenant! Wake up!"

Granger was oblivious. "Borden..." He looked at his clock. "...do you know what time it is?"

"Sir, we're in danger."

"What do you mean?"

"Sniper!"

"We're on the fifteenth floor. No other building comes even close to this height..." He looked out the window and his eyes grew wide.

A helicopter was holding a hover approximately five hundred feet from the hotel at their floor. A red flash was visible.

"OH SHIT! DOWN! EVERYONE DOWN!"

Granger rolled off the bed just as a round whined through the window it hit the spot where he lay, throwing stuffing and pieces of cloth into the air.

Kinsler also slid off his bed, wide awake. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Helicopter! Five hundred feet center!" Borden said.

In the rooms next to them, angry patrons pounded on the walls for quiet. Another bullet whizzed over their heads and smashed a lamp. pricks of glass showered over them.

Borden tried to aim his M6.

"NO!" Matt said putting his hand on the barrel. "Don't give away our position!"

Kinsler started breathing heavily. He was just a tech expert. He was educated. He went to Oxford. Now that the bullets were flying, his composure was long gone.

"He's got the doorway covered!" Borden reported, trying not to show his head. A third round slammed into the television, sending Borden's point home.

"I'll get the drapes!" Chen offered.

"If you're up to it." Granger shrugged.

"I am."

"Go!"

Chen leaped over the bed and ran for the drapes. he grabbed the material and ran for the other side. One round came so close he went deaf in one ear for a second. By the time it cleared, the room was covered by the drapes.

"Good work!" Granger said. "Make for the door! Let's go, let's go!"

"Wait! The computers!" Kinsler said. A bullet smashed the laptop. "Shit! Alright! Grab the data server!"

Chen unhooked the drive and ran. He grabbed the door and flung it open. Standing before them was a figure with an assault rifle. The balaclava, the combat vest, the gloves on the hands, and right away they knew they were found out. When the rifle raised, Instinct took over.

In a split second, Granger drew his pistol and fired once. The 12.7mm round impacted dead center in the man's chest. He exhaled explosively but didn't die. Chen then growled and slammed the heavy portable server into the man's head. He crumpled and stopped moving.

"What the _hell _was that? Is that a hitman?" Kinsler asked wildly.

"Worse." Granger said turning the body over, revealing a short spiky tail. "He's a cult member."

"Well that's just fucking fantastic." Kinsler added, walking in a circle.

Stunned people came from their rooms. Some shrieked, some curiously came forward.

"Someone call the police." Granger said.

"How do we know you aren't a murderer?" A man asked standing shakily in front of him.

Granger fished around for his ID tag. he found it in his back pocket. "Naval Intelligence, Section 2."

The man flinched for a second.

"Now, I'm afraid you all are now witnesses to an attack and I would be obligated to take you all in unless..." the people started getting angry. He waited for it to die down. "Unless you all go back to your rooms and we'll all say this never happened. Police will be here and will take care of his whole problem. Is that clear?"

The crowd unanimously nodded.

"OK, Everybody have a good night's rest, enjoy the rest of your trip. You three, come on." he said gesturing to his men.

* * *

"It looks like he killed the security guards coming up." Borden said looking at bodies lying on the stairs. "Human no less. He only knocked the Mobians out."

"Why did the helicopter bug out?

"Probably because of the police. They got here pretty quick." Matt remarked.

"But now Gotam knows we're coming for him." Chen realized.

Granger nodded with a lump in his stomach. Their time for slinking around was over. Somehow, the cult had gotten wind of their investigation and sent hitmen to eliminate them. Just how well armed were these guys? Sniper rifles? Helicopters? What's next, a goddamned spaceship?

"Then we'll have to do our best to get him first. We are back on the Specter in thirty minutes. I'm not looking forward to taking a bullet."

They met no resistance going down the stairs. Police cars lined the street. Captain Delamonda was leading the SWAT team. "My friends!" he said. Delamonda jogged up to the ONI operatives. "We got a phone call from some of the hotel guests! Shots were fired!"

"Yeah, the shot up our room they did." Kinsler said leaning against a lightpoll.

"Wow. Was the the helicopter?"

"Yeah. Don't know where they got it from." Granger said shrugging. He was more scared with the gunman than anything in his life. As a Navy Officer, he only took up arms training as a prerequisite at the Academy. He had never directly killed anyone before. The gunman was his first face to face drop.

"Well, one thing's for certain: It didn't come from our airport and the military had no schedules of inbound flights."

"So it was a privately owned chopper." Kinsler said.

"Yes."

Granger nodded his head angrily. "I knew it, I knew it."

"Hold up, got something else. We got a call of a homicide just before we got here."

"Not another Human?"

"No, but you might know this one. A lady found the body of one Federico Juandarez. You know him?"

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ, they got Rico!" Chen said.

"I'm sorry." Delamonda said.

"How bad was he?" Granger asked.

"Bad. We found the body pale as a ghost. Bloody mess all over the place. He's had his throat slashed nearly down to his spine."

"Gotam." Borden said. "He's on to us. He sent that hitman, I know it."

"Well, if you want my advice, _senhor_, I reccomend that you leave Reoh as soon as you can. I don't want any more of my people dying over this issue. Please understand I don't want to be mean but too many people have died here."

Granger nodded. "I understand Captain. We'll be out of here by dawn."

Delamonda nodded respectively. "I do wish you luck. I have faith in you guys, this...'ONI' you work for."

"If only we had your faith." Kinsler said folding his arms.

"_Senhor_, we do not like our bosses. We may tolerate them though. Look, we have to get in and clean up, calm some people down. Good luck, Granger."

* * *

It seemed the public was not informed that there was a Human killer on the loose. Maybe it was possible that they didn't care. Whatever the reason, people were huddled together, commonly looking around. Humans cautiously walked the streets, rarely travelling alone, and it was just a rumor, but Matt had heard that firearm registration rates were the highest they had been in ten years.

"People are scared out of their minds." the Lieutenant said turning left onto Victory Avenue. "Look, Victory was one of the most active streets in the city. A local theater always did matinées on the weekends, drew in huge crowds, and a farmer's market got permission to close the street to sell goods. Now, it's not so lively. Take a look."

He was right. If the birds weren't singing, someone could mistake people as the living dead. Even Mobians were pale. Matt guessed that since they afiliated themselves with Humans, they might be next on the chopping block. The car drove by slowly, taking in every sight.

Kinsler flipped a notebook over. "Alright, we'll be coming up on the target address. Be advised, if we're wrong, the other real members might go to ground.

"Well then, we'll be quiet." Matt said pulling into a parking spot, retrieving his pistol and inserting a magazine.

They opened the sedan's doors and casually entered the apartment building. Thankfully, the lobby was empty.

"What's the address?" Granger asked.

"1021." Kinsler said.

"Going up." Chen joked calling the elevator.

The car opened. Like the lobby, nobody was in it. As the car went up the building, the men checked their sidearms. Safeties were on for the time being but this needed to be fast. Technically, they could use suppressors on their weapons and not be penalized by law but Granger hoped that violence would not be necessary.

"Mr. Travis Elrich." Kinsler said reading the paper. "Actually, I found a rap sheet on him."

"Really?" Matt asked interested. "Do tell."

"Served time, he did." Lou explained. "Two counts of assault or the intent of bodily harm, one count of armed robbery, and three counts of possession of an illegal firearm. Served fifteen years in prison in the grand scheme of things."

"In that case..." Granger contemplated. "Threatening him with more cell time won't affect him. We may have to go a step further."

"Don't lose your cool, boss." Borden warned.

The elevator doors opened. A modest hallway beckoned them. They followed the numbers until they found their door.

"19, 20, 21. Here." Kinsler said. "This is Elrich's house."

"Alright, on my three." Granger said adjusting his shoulder for an old fashioned breach. "One...tw--"

"Wait boss!" Chen hissed.

"What?" The fox asked, annoyed.

"I live in an apartment. I can tell you that this isn't just a wooden door."

"Right, probably has it New York-style." Kinsler said thinking it over.

"New York-style?" Granger asked, curious.

"As many locks as humanly possible." Kinsler said smiling.

"Yeah, keeps my landlord away." Chen explained chuckling.

"Landlord...wait, that gives me an idea. We can't just say we're ONI. Holster your guns."

They all slid their pistols into holsters and Matt knocked on the door three times.

"_Who is it_?" A voice asked from the other side.

"Mr. Elrich, your landlord sent us. We need to discuss the monthly rent payment."

"_Ugh...what does he want_?"

"Times are tough, he's calling for a ten percent increase."

"_TEN PERCENT?! I...hang on a moment!_"

There was shuffling and multiple clicking up and down the door. Kinsler patted Chen on the shoulder vigorously. Zhou gave a thumbs up. The final lock opened and the door opened. A squat prarie dog stood in the door. He was nearly a head smaller than Granger.

"What you looking at?"

"Nothing, short stuff."

"You know what, you can tell Marty he can take his ten percent hike and shove it up his ass!"

Matt rubbed the back of his head. "Well, Mr. Elrich, I believe that we should end this charade."

"What do you mean?"

"We aren't really from your landlord."

"We're not even from this building." Kinsler admitted.

"Who are-"

"Office of Naval Intelligence, Naval Criminal Investigation Service. Mr. Elrich, we want to ask you a few questions."

"Oh _shit_!" Elrich cried backing up into his room. "Oh _shit!_ I swear, I didn't do it!"

"Did what? We never accused you of anything yet. We only want to ask a few questions." Matt placed his hand on his rib holster. "Unless you want to tell us something."

Elrich looked around frantically. He looked at the ONI agents, looked at the holsters, then at the windows or for a gun. Realizing that he had no logical way to escape, he started to back up.

"Chen, lock the door."

"One lock or all?" the racoon joked.

"Surprise me."

Kinsler stepped forward towards Elrich. "Sit down."

"Look, what do you want--"

"SIT DOWN!" he shoved hard. Kinsler was a big man and a simple shove felt like being hit by a car to this anthro. Elrich hit his matress and exhaled sharply.

"You want money? I got money."

"Money huh? Then why haven't you moved out of this dump? Matt asked. "You got a nice place here, Travis. Liking the peeling wallpaper, scratches on the wall, posters from twenty year old _Playboys_, you certainly lead the high life. What's this?"

He crossed the room to a partially closed dresser.

"Hey!" Travis said angrily. "Don't go in there!"

"Why? It's only a dresser. Right? Oh mama..." he opened a drawer and pulled out an assault rifle. "Royal Armories, M513-A3. 6.8mm. Now, I don't think this is a civilian sanctioned assault weapon. You're not a member of the NRA are you?"

"It _is_ a civilian model!"

"No it's _not_!" Borden said. "May I boss?"

"Certainly."

Borden grabbed the gun and held it in front of Travis.

"The civilain model, the M513-_AC_, has a smaller fifteen round flush-fit magazine, no forward assist but a bolt lock, and a fixed stock! This is an A3!"

Granger looked at the scared prarie dog. "My associate has a point. You are in posession of a military grade rifle."

"Boss!" Chen said looking through other drawers. "40 mike mike!" he pulled out a grenade launcher and gave it to Granger.

"M607 40 millimeter grenade launcher, underslung or standalone. _Definetely_ not available to civilians.

"Not to mention enough brass to make a statue of you, LT." Chen pulled out a handful of cartridges.

"Well I'll be damned." Granger said smiling. "Posession of illegal weapon. 3 years. Posession of explosive devices. 5 years. No firearm licesnse. Six months. You have a healthy sentence so far."

Elrich summoned more courage. "So, I have a gun. Put me away."

"Whoa, whoa Cowboy." Kinsler growled. "No use having a gun if you can't shoot it, I reckon."

"What does he mean?"

"Your cartridges have an interesting composition, Mr. Elrich." Granger said looking at a 6.8mm round. "heavy hitting yet still having some distance on them, Misriah match grade, but it's the actual bullet that interests me. Rubberized. Rimshot, so that it bounces after burrowing."

"I have a right to an advocate."

"So you do. At this point, you also have the right to have your ass kicked."

Travis said nothing.

"You're a member of the Mobian extremist cult the Children of Mobius."

He still said nothing, confirming his guilt.

"Why?" Matt asked pacing the room. "Why would you write things like that on the Internet, threatening to bomb schools on Earth or attacking citizens like in the Reoh town square?"

"I had nothing to do with that."

Granger whipped around and grabbed his throat and spoke through gritted teeth. "You are an accessory to mass homicide! I would choose my words very, _very _carefully, otherwise the only thing you'll be thinking of is what sound your body's going to make hitting the pavement!"

Tears of fear streaked down Travis' face. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it! That wasn't even me in Reoh! I only put stuff online! They just gave me the gun as an initiation present!"

"Give me information."

"I know nothing!"

Borden folded his arms and smiled evily. "I think he's resisting arrest."

"You know, you might be right. Which end? Barrel or grip?"

"Barrel. It's heavier."

"I concur." Matt grabbed his pistol, removed the magazine and bore it empty, barrel-heavy. He looked at the gun for a split second but then whipped it across Travis' head. A trickle of blood formed but Travis just stared at them.

"You bastard! I'm gonna cut yor balls off and --" _WHACK_

That one knocked a tooth out. While Elrich spat blood, Matt glared. "I don't believe we asked you to talk. Where's Gotam?"

"Gotam? Shit! If I wasn't gonna tell you before, I'm not going to tell you now!"

"Put him against the glass."

Kinsler grabbed the prarie dog against the window. Elrich looked to the ground.

"Nice view, huh?" Kinsler asked with a laugh.

"You're insane!"

"You'll give me a name."

"I...I really don't know."

The next thing he heard was glass stressing. Spiderweb cracks formed on the frame.

"OK! OK! Please! Put me down!"

Granger breathed a sigh of relief. He never wanted to really kill him. It was too much trouble finding him in the first place. "Put him back on the bed."

Kinsler nodded and did as was asked.

"OK. Give me something, or we'll go to the compactor next."

"OK. Listen...I really don't know how to reach Gotam, but I know that there's a way to get to him. Every so often we require more ammunition, stocking up for whatever operation might come. So, he contacts a man named--"

"Gerdenwald." Chen finished.

"...Yeah..." he said surprised. "So, he contacts him, and a runner goes to pick up the ammo. He never goes out in public."

"Probably to avoid an assassination attempt." Borden reasoned.

"I guess." Travis shrugged.

"So." Kinsler began, "We need to pay Gerdenwald another visit."

"That we can do. We're done with this guy."

Travis blinked. "So, we're done? I'm free to go?"

Granger shook his head. "Don't think so. You're in deep trouble." He lifted his fingers to count. "Let's see, Posession of a military weapon: 3 years. Posession of explosives: 5 years. No gun license: 6 months. Accessory to homicide: 2 years. As for your involvement in a cult that will be charged with crimes against Humanity...we'll let the judge decide on that one."


	7. Chapter 7: At the Gates

Chaper 7: At the Gates

April 7th, 3237, 1142 hours

Castle Acorn

En Route to Detention Center

Granger led the charge into the castle. In the atrium, a guard directed them down a sidepassage.

"Hey, what gives?"

"Listen here Navy, I'm just doing my job. Just shut up and go the other way."

"So why can't we just go down this door? It would be oh so much faster than a subcorridor."

The guard, a very impatient armadillo growled. "Their Highnesses are holding court. Guess what? You're not invited. Besides, they're not seeing peasents anymore."

"Why?"

"Kiss my ass."

Matt turned and stormed down the passage. He had a pretty good idea why the royals weren't seeing anybody: About two years ago there was a small invasion on Earth by something called Zerg, the daughter of the King and Queen had joined the fight, kicked plenty of alien ass. She was a good fighter and had some random Marines with her, headed by some guy...Venson...or Venitt...or Vyni...some guy, he didn't remember or care. After the fight when the alien commander was killed and New Mombasa recieved another crater, they boarded a ship called the _Phoenix_, Human destroyer. They were scheduled for a troop drop off on Constance in the...whatever system (remembering every single habitable system was tough work), engaged their Slipspace drives and disappeared, vanished from the universe as they knew it.

Destroyed her parents. They had been upset about it for two years, hadn't been the same at diplomatic parties. Queen Alicia even refused to leave Mobius, always went to her daughter's room every night to cry. What was even worse was her boyfriend. The world famous "superhero" Sonic T. Hedgheog. He was Granger's idol. Young, powerful, fast, charismatic, like stated before, a superhero. So far, he was the only being known in the universe to reach supersonic speeds without either dying from lack of metabolic intake or from the skin being peeled from his body when he broke the sound barrier or even from winding himself. There had been others, but through use of Chaos Energy impregnation. Even then, some subjects died.

But he was getting off his mental topic. Sonic had been hurt by this incident. He heard (entirely rumors through his isolation in the H.E.), that he was contemplating suicide. He bought a Beretta with one FMJ round. _Celebrities_. But had been stoped by his girlfriend/stalker (he didn't know which), Amy Rose. Now, he moved on, realizing that she genuinely cared a lot about him.

"Boss?" Borden asked. "_Yoo-Hoo_!"

"Sorry. Where was I?"

They were walking down stairs. This would lead them into the dungeon, but much slower than takking a direct route, but he couldn't argue, especially when the guard had a machine gun.

"So, how you gonna beat the information out of Gerdenwald?" Kinsler asked.

"Nobody said anything about beating." The Lieuteant said.

"Yet." Chen added.

Granger considered that word. If their excursion with Gerdenwald went south, they would have to extract their information through unpleasent methods. But in retrospect, they didn't know how much "persuasion" one old man could take before he died from the interrogation. The men reached the door leading to the holding cell. Matt swiped his card and was granted access. A single Human guard sat in the corner behind a bullet-proof glass screen watching a baseball game. He appeared to be very into it.

"Come on Wikus! _Come on!_ Grab that mother! NO! _NO!_"

"_And that ball is long gone! At the top of the 9th, the score stands 3-2 to Asgard, hailing from Valhalla. This game is over ladies and gentlemen!_"

The guard shut off the TV in anger. "You morons!" He fumed for a second, took a bite of his sandwich and turned to look at his visitors. "And what the hell you guys want? You my relief?"

"No such luck." Granger said simply.

"Well, you have a reason for invading my personal space?"

"We're here to see a prisoner." Borden said.

"You mind simplifying...?"

"Joham Gerdenwald."

"Oh, that old guy? He's in solitary. I'll open it up."

"Thanks. Uh...can we get a little 'privacy'?"

The guard seemed to catch their drift. "Oh..." He fumbled on his console. "It appears that the cameras aren't working."

"Aint that a bloody shame." Kinsler said with mock concern.

"They'll reboot automatically in five minutes."

"That's more than enough time, the fox said. "We'll do it in 4."

Johma Gerdenwald sat in his cell looking at the other wall. Yesterday he was moved into solitary confinement. His lawyer had produced the possibility with a forced co-operation plea but he evidently had no guarantee that it was airtight. Most likely scenario: he'd be deported back to Earth, stand trial in front of the Supreme Court, and who knows from there? Life imprisonment? Execution? Emigration to some colonial penal camp? Anything was better than this stinking cell!

"Guard, I want a larger cell!"

"Shut up, Gerdenwald." the sentry said. "We moved you to a single cell, you'll stay here."

"This is unfair treatment!"

"Race traitor."

"That's not fair! They made me do it!"

"Yeah, and I'm the fucking the princess." The guard adjusted his cap and looked down the hall. "Well, well, well. Looks like you have visitors."

"Visit...?"

Granger made his appearence first. "Hey buddy."

"Oh no!" The frightened Austrian arms dealer screeched, jumping and edging towards the back of his cell. "Don't come anywhere near me!"

"Can I help you?" the guard asked.

"Yeah, your camera network seems to be down." Kinsler explained. "You best get up there."

"Oh...I see." The guard said realizing. "You want in?"

"That'd be nice." Chen smiled.

The door slid away, and two of the men stepped inside. Granger and Borden were ready to work their magic.

All of a sudden, a thick metal door clamped over the bars.

"Huh. Looks like riot lockdown bulkheads." Granger said raising his eyebrows. "Must have crossed a wire." He smiled. This was menacing though. It frightened the old man.

"You're insane..."

Chen crossed his arms. "I don't see wht _they_ always get to rough people up."

Kinsler huffed. "I'm a gentle giant, you would probably end up shooting yourself waving your gun around."

"Will not!"

"Will too. You know you were suspended without pay for almost accidentily shooting your testicles off."

"Not funny! I sen a week in the hospital for that shit!"

"And what did you learn?"

"Never stuff a loaded gun in your underwear elastic.

"My point exactly."

"Listen, the DA wants your ass, right?" Borden asked.

"My head along with it."

"You're probably slated for a dingy shuttle ride back to Earth to await trial by jury, correct?"

"I doubt it'll be a fair trial."

"Better than getting zapped right away."

That made the old man shrug.

"Now...if you are willing to co-operate, Mr. Gerdenwald, I have a proposition for you."

Now, normally Joham Gerdenwald was not one to jump at a man's word alone but he knew a lifeline when it was thrown at him.

"What is it?"

"Oh, co-operating now." Granger said in surprise. He expected more of a struggle.

"I'm probably going to be put in front of a firing line in the end. Why shouldn't I do anything to delay this?"

"Well, we might be able to arrange something."

Gerdenwald looked at him suspiciously. "What are you going at?"

Granger reached into his pocket and pulled out the image that Natalina drew back in Reoh. He unfolded the picture and placed it in front of Gerdenwald. "Do you know this man?"

Gerdenwald looked at the picture. "Yes."

"Is this man Gotam?"

"I do not know."

"You mean you don't know if he's Gotam."

"That's right."

Granger wiped his eyes. "OK. You have seen him though?"

Gerdenwald thought about it. "I saw him on my last shipment. He was with two other figures, couldn't see their faces."

"Can you tell me about him?"

"He moved stiffly. Much more so than any person ever was."

"Possibly military?" Borden suggested.

"Oh, I'm convinced he had training." the old man said. "Possibly a member of the military."

"Could we run the photo, look for ID?"

"I suspect they removed it from the network to avoid tracing. I would hazard to guess that there were other registered servicemen within the group."

"Fabulous. Now it most definetly involves NCIS if there are renegade soldiers." Borden reasoned.

"Borden, let me think for a second." Matt said starting to pace the cell. "The group doesn't know you're in here. We've been discreet about your apprehension." He paced again. "Supposed we were to let you go...conditionally of course..."

"You want me to be bait."

"Uh..."

"Son, I am seventy-seven years old. I might be 'mid-aged' for my race, but I've had time to see things and learn things. I'll say it right now, I don't think I can do that."

Matt's hands clenched into fists. "Why not?"

"These things don't always work. You'll have me wearing a wire of sorts, like in the cop movies of way back when? Those things don't always work."

"You won't be alone. We will be close."

"Yes, but not close enough to stop me from getting shot. I've been shot seven times in my life, mostly in my left arm and upped abdomen. Each time was painful but none of them obviously killed me. What if something of my own creation does the job...?"

"Listen Joham, I am authorized by my superiors to exonerate you of all charges should you help us."

Gerdenwald thought about it. "All crimes dropped?"

"You will be cleared on forced co-operation charges, something not entirely untrue."

He didn't give it a second thought. "OK, I'll do it."

"I thought you'd see it our way." Borden smiled. "We'll be back for you."

Walking down the hall, Borden looked to Granger. "Well, I'm a little disappointed. Here I was thinking you'd kick the shit out of him."

"I know. I scared myself too."

Gerdenwald sat at a table looking at a conical device, designed to hook around an ear. "This is a Mobian device. Are you sure it will fit me?"

"It's based on ancient design, Human actually." Granger said. "It's moldable, so it can fit in your ear as well. It's also flesh colored, so it'll blend in with your skin. You shouldn't be noticed."

"They key word is 'shouldn't'."

"Fair point. I never guaranteed your survival."

"So, why should I help then?"

"Despite your eventual death, labelling as a race traitor, and your hand in the development of an extremist cult? The history books will maim you."

Gerdenwald stuttered. "Th...Th...they wouldn't do that. ONI will keep this under wraps! Nobody in the real world will know about this."

Matt wiped his brow and speaking truthfully, "My friend, I don't know. I honestly don't know whether the cult will go public with their threats or whatnot. All I know is you can make the medicine go down. You're that spoonful of sugar, old man." He pushed the tiny two-way device towards him. "Kinsler, educate."

"OK, then. Minimal chance of detection, will send our messages in electrical impulses. Mini electrodes will put it into your nervous system and will beam to your brain's aural data center. You will interpret these impulses as our voices. No way to detect it. That is, unless you go full retard and make a habit of talking to yourself. Otherwise, you should be fine."

"Right." the old arms dealer said. "Full acquittal?"

"I'll put it in red ink."

Gerdenwald thought about it. Was risking his life worth it? Seeing his friends back in Austria? _Yes_, he decided. _Yes, this is worth it_.

"Lieutenant, I will help you."

Matt smiled. "Good!" He motioned to the device.

Gerdenwald smiled and screwed in the device. "Anything else before I go to my death?"

"Yes. We have a few SWAT team members standing by in case things get ugly. Snipers will be following you and will discreetly take up positions, aided by Active Camo devices. When the call comes in--"

Suddenly, a buzzing sound came through. Everyone looked startled, even the armed guards drew pistols. "What was that?" one of them asked, tail whipping in surprise.

"It's my phone." Gerdenwald said plainly. "It's the phone for my contacts."

"Recorder? Tracer?" Granger asked the guards.

One of them ran to a console and tapped a few keys. "We're attached to his phone sir."

"Talk as if everything's normal." Matt advised.

Gerdenwald nodded, reached into his pocket and drew the phone. He tapped the answer key and said, "Hello?"

"_Mr. Gerdenwald, we require your assistance_."

"In what way?"

"_Business has been good, Human. We need more cartride deliveries._"

"But I just send you three crates a few days ago!"

"_Training, planning...rounds fly when you have fun, know what I mean?_"

"Yes I do." the old man said bitterly.

"_Hey, what's that voice? Listen you geriatric Austrian fuck, the only reason we're letting you live is 'cause you're the best in the business or so I've been told._" There was pause for effect. "I wasn't told wrong, was I?"

"No. I'll do it. Just calm down. Payment methods?"

"_The Standard. Ensure you have as many rounds as we can carry and we'll supply you with 5 million Galactic Standard Dollars, legal._"

"They're not forged?"

"_What, I'd screw over our gunsmith, and have the next weapon I have misfire in my face? No, these are real greenbacks, my friend_."

"OK, that's good. Where do you want us to meet?"

"_Hold on, you sure you're not being traced_?"

"Just bought the phone a day ago, inserted a new chip. I'm clean."

Chen gulped loudly. The man on the other line was fishing, but no catch today.

"_Well...alright, but watch yourself. Don't want to lead the cops here, or the UNSC even._"

"What? No Freedom Fighters?"

"_What?_" He laughed hard. "_The _Freedom Fighters_?! Thems just a bunch of teenagers that think they're ballsy enough to attack robots. What the fuck they got on us? In any case, they're gone! Slipspace accident!_"

"OK, I was just thinking--"

"_Hey_," the man said interrupting, "_You're not paid to think. You are paid to supply us and in return, you get to breathe through that ugly nose that you guys have. 22103 Dominion and Guardian. Number 2 warehouse. 2:25 AM. Three days from now. Come alone or not at all_." The line dropped dead.

"Well, that was awfully convenient. Did you get a trace?" Granger asked the guard at the console.

"No. We couldn't track it."

"Did you hear, they said they used up the whole lot." Kinsler said disgusted.

"Probably for training." Granger said trying to keep him calm

"It's a possibility, but the cult also has access to match grade ammunition as well."

That didn't calm Lou down. If anything, it made him worse.

Matt Decided to change the subject. "This place, 22103 Dominion, it's an old storage warehouse, right?"

"Yeah." a guard said. "Active for twenty years at the end of the Dark Ages."

"You may be exposed there, guys." Matt. "can the snipers move to a rafter or an office?"

"Active camouflage can get us in place, and we will use subsonic ammunition."

"What's the difference?" Chen asked.

"Subsonic ammunition travels below the speed of sound." Borden explained. "That's why when you hear a gun going off, there's a crack. Subsonic ammunition makes it less noisy. A supressor will make it whisper quiet."

"You ready for this, Gerdenwald?"

"Let's get this over with."

Marines were deemed too extreme for this operation, a Spartan would attract too much attention, so naturally, local police were contacted. SWAT team members masquerading as dock workers patrolled the area doing work. When the sun went down, the broken moon was not visible. However, a small gray-white line of a ring forming

was. At two o'clock in the morning, nodoby would be around. Ships were moored, workers went home, and security systems were activated. The Dominion Warehouse was abandoned for the time being. Matt and his boys sat in an SUV with windows tinted and the engine off. Across the street from the warehouse, the car blended into a few vehicles parked by a shabby apartment. For nearly five hours they didn't move, just watched. A similar black SUV curved around the corner. It pulled into the warehouse.

Gerdenwald sat in the back passenger seat. His glasses glistened in the streetlamp light. He nearly jumped when Granger laid a hand on his shoulder. Gerdenwald was stunned, but something about the fox's big blue eyes calmed the old man.

Granger tapped his COM earpiece. "We're on, fellas."

"_Copy. We're moving now_."

By the time Gerdenwald popped open the door, the SWAT team was already in motion. Discarding the disguises, they reached into nearby cargo crates to retrieve sniper rifle components. With lightning speed, they snapped the pieces together and inserted magazines.

"Echelons one and two on me!" The squad leader called. "Echelons three and four proceed to marked locations and await further orders!"

The SWAT team circled the warehouse silently, moving with animal precision the officers stacked up on an open doorway.

"OK gentlemen. Spin up the Actice Camo."

The SWAT members shuddered for a second and faded away from view. In ten seconds, the only mark of the officers was a heat blur-like patch of air.

"Keep heat vision on." The squad leader advised. A slight whine sounded as the goggles powered up. Thanks to AC generators actually producing heat, the SWAT team stuck out in red-orange blobs. "Echelon three, proceed to those crates." One of the blobs moved to a stack of shipping crates, found a niche and set his rifle in between two. "Echelons two and four, find a perch."

"_This is Echelon four, I see a foreman's office approximately thirty feet away from me and fory feet above. Want us to set up shop_?"

"Copy Echelon 4, hold position and await for my order."

"_I read that. Come on._"

Two red blobs moved to a stairway and silently slunk into the foreman's office.

"_Door's locked. I'll pick it_."

The squad leader altered his attention to the men standing in the headlights.

"Got an ID in the players." he whispered into his headset. "Sergeant, confirm ID."

The sniper at the crates viewed the man through the gun's telescopic sight. "_Let's see, Male ursine, roughly in his thirties, scar along the right side. Got a positive ID from the picture_."

"_Where's the package?_"

"Lederhosen has just entered the warehouse."

Gerdenwald had the packages on an anti-grav trolley. He was sweating uncontrollably. He hoped that the group he was walking towards wouldn't notice. The behind him suddenly got all the more heavier. He blinked several times behind his glasses and cleared his throat. "Good morning!" He called.

"Shut up."

Gerdenwald shrugged. Just nod and shut up. These men were letting him live because they needed equipment.

"You have the rounds?"

"Yes."

The bear tilted his head. "Show me the package."

The old arms dealer nodded and lifted the cover on one of the crates and revealed row upon row of robotically modified rounds. The bear looked at the cartridges, inspected one, and nodded. "They're up to scratch. 5 mil for the whole lot." He snapped his fingers and an associate cracked open a briefcase. Neat stack of bills piled up. It was like a money exchange from a mobster film.

"You sure the money's clean?"

"What, you'd think we'd screw you over?" 

"Just a precaution."

"You're lucky we don't just shoot you and take the rounds."

One of the masked Mobians nodded towards Gerdenwald. "What's the matter, Human? You're sweating like crazy. Are we...uh...making you uncomfortable?"

"What?! No! I caught a cold two weeks ago. It's just clammy skin. It'll clear up."

"Hmm..." The armed anthro said lowering his AK-47.

"7.62s as well, so they're compatable with those relics there." the Austrian said pointing to the Kalashnikovs. "Those things are in musuems you know."

"They work fine!" He said squeezing the trigger. Three rounds barked from the firearm into the rafters.

"_JESUS CHRIST!_" The sniper in the foreman's room cried. "Sir! Permission to fire!"

"_Denied. They haven't found us yet_."

"Understood sir." The sniper adjusted his aim and whispered to the other officer, "This is bullshit by the way."

"_ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? YOU WANT TO WAKE UP THE GODDAMN NEIGHBORHOOD_?" The bear roared.

"Scream any louder and _you_ might." The guard said.

For a second, the bear looked like he would shoot the masked guard there and then. "Sass me again, and I'll pull fingers off, one at a time." He turned back to Gerdenwald. "OK. So we're all cleared. Any...questions, comments, concerns?"

Gerdenwald's ears reddened. "Just one. I've been supplying you weapons for months. I've seen you, but I have no idea who you are. Who are you?"

The bear's eyes narrowed. "Huh. That's an odd question. Nobody of consequence, I assure you."

"Are you Gotam?"

"Again, another odd question. You've never asked before."

Kinsler was listening in to the conversation. "Not good, so not good! He's gonna blow his cover!"

Granger spoke into the microphone from the safety of their SUV. "Joham! Back off! They're going to know something's fishy!"

"Well, it's just something that's been in the back of my mind." Gerdenwald said, heeding the message.

"I see."

They heard a buzzing noise. "What's that?!"

"Relax. Just a phone call." the other guard said. he tapped his phone. "There. We're cut off."

"Excellent." the bear said.

"Excellent, what does he mean excellent?"

"We don't want to be disturbed. Mr. Gerdenwald. Come with me, I would like to discuss the final preparations, possibly some alterations with the shipments after this one."

"Well...OK, I guess."

"Lederhosen is on the move." The crate sniper said.

"_What? No! Keep him in sight!_"

"Come on! Swap positions!"

The guards were busy loading the rounds into the SUV. Gerdenwald and the leader walked behind the car. "Why do you want to know if I'm Gotam?"

"I don't know what you're--"

The bear grabbed the arms dealer and pinned him against the car. "YOU FUCKING RAT!" He slugged Gerdenwald three times, throwing the glasses off him. "THEY'RE HERE AREN'T THEY?" While the man was gasping for breath, he sent a boot into his ribs.

"No! I'm not doing anything!"

"Liar!" He placed the boot on his hand and started crushing it.

"Get off my hand you jackass!"

"You're feeding information to ONI aren't you?"

"No!" Gerdenwald felt his fingers crumble.

"Tell the truth!"

"Just get off! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! GET OFF!"

"Where are they?"

"ONI officers outside, police snipers in here. They have active camouflage."

"I see." He looked around. "Thank you. Thank you very much." He pointed his gun right at the arms dealer and pulled the trigger.

The moment that Gerdenwald's biometer flatlined, the team was out of the car. "Aw fuck me!" Granger said taking out his M6. He tapped his COM set. "Lieutenant, you have permission to open fire!"

"_Sir, they've already engaged us! They have Heat Vision Goggles, sir!_"

"Shit! They knew!" Kinsler said.

Granger mentally kicked himself. "Serves me right. I should have known about this since Reoh."

"I second that." Chen quipped.

The gunfire grew louder as the police and the gunmen engaged each other. A few stray rounds punctured the side of the warehouse. "Kinsler, you alright with a weapon?"

"I'll manage!" he said inserting shells into a shotgun.

"Stack up!" Granger said. he found the term uncomfortable. Trained to fight from the controls of a ship, fighting with physics and mathematics, he found speaking like a Marine uncomfortable for him. The leaned against a weak door. gunfire sounded from within. Matt pointed to Kinsler who heaved his shotgun butt into the door which popped off its hinges. "Go!" He hissed as his men went in.

The officers fired potshots from cover, not finding very much purchase. The match grade ammunition smashed against their SUV, breaking the headlights and hurling the rearview mirrors off. The warehouse plunged into darkness, but since the the cult members had military grade heat vision goggles - where they got these, they had no idea - the officers, along with their heat belching active camouflage units, showed up clear as day.

"_This is Echelon Four, I'm taking serious fire!_" The officer in the foreman's office called out. Bullet holes were creeping closer to his position.

"_Echelon Four, this is Two, I'll cover you_!" Blasts of fire erupted from the crates.

"This is Echelon Lead." The Lieutenant said. "Lieutenant Granger, requesting permission to deactivate AC generators!"

"_Hold on a second, officer. We may have a solution to this_."

Chen, Kinsler, Borden and Granger leaned behind a cement blockade.

"How the hell are we gonna get close?" Chen asked. "They have this area covered."

"With those HVGs? Yeah." Granger agreed.

Kinsler suddenly had an idea. "Sean." he breathed. He dug into his backpack and found his portable AI generator.

Granger's ear twicthed. He stole a glance over the blockade and saw more masked gunmen enter the warehouse. "They have backup."

Borden cursed under his breath. "Listen gentlemen, the kooks just brought in backup, please acknowledge, over."

"_Acknowledged, Ensign. putting out a call for some armed backup_."

By this time, Kinsler activated the AI. "Sean. Wake up!"

"_Huh, you have a nature for disturbing me then, guv'nah. I was in the middle of a subroutine maintinence examination, I was._"

"Not now, Sean!"

"_OK. Bollocks to that, then. What d'you want?_"

"There are men who are shooting at us." Kinsler explained. "They have heat vision goggles!"

"_I ain't daft, Lou!_" There was a pause. "_You need me to shut them down?_"

"Could you?" Chen asked, curious.

"_Yeah, of course! Standard EMW emission, tap into the frequencies, and blow the circuits from the inside. Child's play_."

"Do it." Granger finalized.

A small status light blinked on the generator's "_Charging. 15 percent...40 percent...70 percent...Full Charge! This may tingle._"

The air seemed to hum and everyone's hair stood on end. Then...

"THE GOGGLES ARE DEAD!"

"Bingo." Granger said with a toothy grin.

Kinsler popped up and fired a round from his shotgun. One of the dazed guards caught 00 Buck in his side, gave a cry and stumbled into Echelon Lead's line of fire. A single shot to the center of mass put down the gunman. Now able to move freely under the veil of camouflage, the police had the upper hand and the addition of three pairs of sirens made this a one-sided fight for all intents and purposes.

Granger snapped two shots off from his M6 and caught a guard in the head. The man seemed to snap to the right and then fell over. "Chen! On me, move up!"

The two Mobians advanced, taking cover behind the crates. A lucky bullet slammed into the right shoulder of the sniper there, puncturing his AC unit. The unit failed and he shimmered back into view. "FUCK!" He screamed. He grabbed the wound which was leaking blood. "They killed Lederhosen."

Granger nodded his head gravely. "Yeah we know." Granger tapped his COM. "All Echelons, officer injured. Arriving officers, this is an ONI operation, do not interfere but we request suppressing fire."

Fresh SWAT troops with assault rifles broke through windows. They immedietely began firing at what was left of the SUV.

"Tear gas up!" one of them called out. A pair of cylinders arced over their heads and bounced. Vomit green colored gas floated in clouds, causing terrorists to wander around with hands covering their eyes.

"That's our opening, let's go!" Granger said running into the cloud.

"Sir, I feel strongly _against_ running into the cloud that burns our eyes and lungs!" Chen called out. He stood at the edge of the cloud, hesitated, then ran in.

The feeling was overpowering. It was like pain was tearing at his eyes. He wanted to keep them shut but he didn't want to be walking around bllind. He could hear screams of pain around him.

"IT FUCKING HURTS!" He heard one gunman say.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE!" Another said.

He was determined to look for the bear. He finally saw him out of the corner of his eye leaning up against the car talking into a cell phone. Granger roared and flung his weight onto the bear. Despite his physique, the off-guard terrorist fell to the ground. "Finally caught you, you son of a bitch!" He slammed a fist into the bear's face. His assailant grabbed Matt's waist and flung him off.

"Why do you continue to anger us! Why would you ally yourself with the Old People who wiped themselves out?!"

Granger had his hand on his holster, but so did the other man. "These Humans aren't like the ones that used to live on Mobius! They were xenophobic, and it got them wiped out! These Humans are different!"

"Spoken like a true pawn. No matter. When we are finished, it won't matter how different they are. They all bleed the same blood. You would be wise to join us Matthew Granger."

"How the _fuck_ do you know my name?"

"We know all of your names. We've been watching you."

"My duty is to the Navy and Mobius, but also to our friends. The UNSC promised to protect us. They will not hold out on us."

"Are you so sure? Gotam would be inclined to say otherwise."

Granger's hand dropped off his gun. "So...you aren't Gotam at all."

"You fucking moron!" the bear said smiling. "You think our cult leader would just appear for an ammunition exchange? Gotam doesn't care about these petty things. In fact, Gotam--" a gunshot closer than the others cut him off. The bear paused for a second then looked at his white muscle shirt. A red stain began to spread. He gaped at it for a second then started to stagger. Another shot brought him to his knees. The bear looked at Granger. "The UNSC will never succeed. We are too powerful. We will never dissapate. It's not over." He gagged on his own blood and rolled over, becoming still. He looked at the ceiling with blank eyes.

Granger looked at the body, then the direction of the gunshot. Chen stood there with a smoking pistol.

"I got him, sir!" He said happily. "You're safe now!"

Granger got up. "Very good Chen. Looks like we've hit a dead end though. Tell the others to apprehend the rest of the susp--"

The last thing Granger felt at that moment was a very large impact on his head. As his vision grew fuzzy, he saw bits of wood fly everywhere. He had been hit over the head with a chair. The last of his consciousness draining, he fell face-first into the ground and blacked out.


	8. Chapter 8: A Friend in Need

Chapter 8: A Friend In Need

April 10th, 3237, Time Unknown

Unknown Location

Consciousness drifted in and out for the next couple hours. Matt didn't exactly know where he was, how much time had passed since he was hit in the back of the head. His vision was fuzzy, even when he opened his eyes. He could roughly gauge where he was though: It was a room, roughly in the shape of a rectangle about twenty by fiteen feet. The walls were bare, the grey shade of concrete was splashed upon them. He even glanced towards his light source, which were two strips of fluorescent rods.

Now things were coming into focus. He blinked his eyes, noting that there was dried blood on his muzzle. He tried to wipe the blood away, but realized that his hands were bound behind his back. Pretty tight, too. Matt started to panic slightly as he pulled at his bindings, doing nothing more than making it tighter.

"Fuck this!" he said to himself. Right after that, he heard noises in the hallway beyond. His captors must be coming to confront him. He tried pulling again. Once again, the rope wasn't giving. The bolt cycled on the lock, and the door opened.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" a gravelly voice said. The muscular hedgheog was wearing a full face helmet. This, Matt realized, was liberated from a Command Level ODST, judging from the marks on the side, it was from a First Lieutenant. He polarized the helmet just for fun, and then unpolzarized it. "Hey, I like this thing! Had to wash it out after I bashed the guy's skull in."

Matt growled and attempted to get up. The chair was bolted to the ground though, so he had an extremely minor chance to adjust his posture before being dragged into the seat. The hedgehog laughed. "You fucking moron!" He took the helmet off and set it on the ground. He walked over to Matt and knelt down to his level. His brown eyes met Matt's icy blue.

"You picked the wrong side to fight on, little man."

"What do you mean?"

"Humans don't belong here."

"So I've heard."

"Why do you fight for them?"

"Two reasons, ass-clown."

The man scoffed. "Well?"

"Reason number one: The pay's good."

"And...?"

"Reason number two: It puts you dickless fuckers in the cells where you belong!"

He recieved a fist to the stomach for that one. Matt shuddered as he absorbed the pain. A slight bit of blood dripped from his mouth and fell on the floor mixed with saliva. Granger laughed despite this. "That all you got?"

"No. The Boss wants me to keep you alive."

Granger's ears perked. He gulped a breath of cold air and said, "Wait, you're not Gotam?"

"Am I Gotam?" He laughed and paced around the room. He picked his helmet up and placed it under his arm. "Fuck, man! I'm just a soldier, doing my job. Holy Cause and all that."

"Dude, what the hell is this 'Holy Cause' I hear about? Is it really Holy or is it bullshit?"

"Like I said, I'm just a grunt. The boss knows all about it." he glanced at his watch. "Speaking of which, it's time for your appointment." The terrorist placed his hand in a pocket and drew a disk-shaped object. Matt shuddered.

"Relax. It's just a video communicator. Overlander technology left over from the war." The terrorist tapped a button on the top and tossed the device. It floated in place, powered by some magnetic field or whatnot. It stayed in place.

"_You have one waiting call_."

"Accept."

"_Confirmed! Connecting now!_"

The air shimmered as the person on the other side connected. He was not in view as the hologram could only be seen from one angle. Light angled at such a degree that one had to be in the correct position to see it.

"_Is he here?_"

"He's right behind you, Lord Gotam."

"_Thank you_."

As the communicator turned around, Granger's jaw hit the floor. The head structure, the eye size, the hair! It was so shocking that he could scarsely believe it! Gotam was a _Human_!

Gotam's smile went from ear to ear. "Well, Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthew Granger! Francois Jean-Fillipe Gotam. A pleasure to finally see you, although I think it would be better if we met in the flesh!"

"You...you're Human!"

"Yes, shocking isn't it?" He said this as if he was bored. "A terrible shame, I assure you the feeling is mutual."

"_Excuse me?_"

"Perhaps I speak too much. You have to understand I am not willing to divulge any master plan or something like that. I am not a dime a dozen type of villian that gives the whole plan to his enemy before he blows him away. No, that would be sloppy. You could be a new member. Your skill in evading my henchmen and figuring my plan out can prove useful."

"Not that I'd ever join you, but _why_? Why would you go against your own species? Why would you kill members of your own race?"

The corner of Gotam's mouth twitched. "_Hmm...I don not believe that you are ready to hear the answer to that one yet_."

"I'm not going against my friends."

"_Oh your friends, your friends, _BOO HOO." The hologram said. Gotam turned to the terrorist. "_He's being unreasonable. Rough him up a little. Do not kill him though_._ I want him breathing, just in case._"

The projector shut down, and the deactivated disk fluttered to a soft landing on the concrete floor.

The terrorist smiled and cracked his knuckles. "Looks like we're gonna have some fun, race traitor."

"Why am I a race traitor? What makes me special?" Matt asked, frantically trying to buy himself time to attempt an escape.

It appeared that the soldier had a healthy condition of ADD and was distracted easily. He froze with his fist in mid-air. "You allied yourselves with Humans. They will destroy the planet with their technology! They will replace it with metal and strip the land of any resources. It'll be just like the Overlanders all over again."

"Have you even been off Mobius, you narrow-minded bastard?"

"It's a tennant of the Cause to never leave the Motherland."

"Oh, fucking beautiful. So you have no idea what it looks like."

"It's a jungle of metal, with corruption and sin in every corner."

"They really did a number on you after dragging you in, huh?"

He recieved a punch in the stomach. Granger doubled over. He retched and groaned.

"Didn't wanna do that!"

"BullSHIT." Granger said in pain. "You're nuts if you think you can knock around the UNSC! They have more firepower in one finger than you do in your entire arsenal! Plus, you're just a small-time terrorist group thinking you can strike it rich. You'll never get anywhere!"

"Yeah, but we got a missile though! It's made of that stuff that combines, what, a positive and a...negative thingy!"

"An atom bomb?" Matthew asked in shock.

"No, no! It makes a bigger boom. It's like anti...ANTIMATTER, that's it! We have an antimatter warhead pointed at the largest Human settlement on the planet, Station Square. Millions of Humans came from Earth to live here! We can launch it and destroy the city, clean off the map!"

"YOU IDIOTS!" Granger shouted. "YOU'LL DESTROY MORE THAN THAT! An atom bomb only used 7% of its potential energy! Look the fuck at Hiroshima! An AM warhead uses 100% OF IT'S POTENTIAL ENERGY!"

"Don't care. There are scared Mobians, worried they cannot do anything. Humans have people who are willing to kill us too!"

"Don't stoop to their level then! We were supposed to be benevolant! We were given the gift of a second evolution! Don't throw that away because of a fear!"

"When we act, those scared will become strong! We will come out of the shadows and push back the race you thought were our 'friends'!"

CRASH!

The door kicked in, and a whirlwind filled the room. Matthew suddenly felt his binds cut loose. The guard absorbed a series of invisible blows and collapsed on the floor. Standing with one boot triumphantly planted on the unconscious guard was a blue hedgehog.

"Oh wow! It's you! I...I never thought I'd see you!"

The hedgheog smiled. "Don't have to when you don't need to! I'm Sonic! Sonic the Hedgheog

After a few minutes of relieving the guard of his weapon and armor, Matthew asked, "What are you doing here? These aren't your types of jobs, Sonic."

Sonic looked at him. "I was asked, alright? Call it a favor."

"Asked? What, by someone in ONI?"

"ONI? Fuck no! He was Navy though, knew people in ONI."

"Yeah? Does he know someone to get me off this job?"

Sonic chuckled. "Sorry buddy. He may be high up, but not that high."

They turned to leave. "Are these guys as serious as they say?"

"What, these _fucknuts_?" Granger asked gesturing to the unconsious guard. "Yeah. The leader is a Human! Francois Gotam wants to get his own race off of Mobius, by _force if necessary_!"

This shocked Sonic. Matthew could see that he was not only surprised, he was horrified. What was that Granger could also see in the hedgehog's face? Guilt perhaps?

"I never knew." He said simply. "Come on, let's go."

The hallway outside was clear. There wasn't a soul in sight, but they needed to get as far away as they could before someone sent a radio call to the unconscious guard demanding a status report.

"What way did you come in?" Matt asked.

"Uh..." Sonic said, straining to remember. "That way." He said, pointing down a corridor to the right.

They jogged down that way. They kept their voices low. "Listen, Sonic, why did someone want to save me?"

"He said that he was investing in your progress. You seem to be uncovering some interesting clues in your investigation."

"Oh! That reminds me, how are my team-mates?"

Sonic risked a glance. "I don't know."

Granger swore. They swung around a corner and saw a guard walking down the hallway, an old-fashioned AK-47 in his arms. Sonic crept up behind the guard and choked him until he passed out.

"Is he dead?" Matt asked.

"No, sleeping. What do you think I am, a Human?"

"You're not one for killing, are you?"

"I try to avoid it when I can." The hedgehog said.

The micro-conversations he was having with Sonic revealed a lot about this young man. Granger didn't hear much of him on the West Coast, but in all of the videos he had seen, Sonic was full of energy, zipping from one point to another. The hedgehog standing in front of him seemed...tired. Bags were forming under his eyes, his movements seemed sluggish, and while he occasionally added a flourish onto everything he did, everything seemed like it was moving underwater to him.

"You alright?"

"Hmm?"

"Sorry, it just seems like you're tired."

"I AM tired, man." Sonic said. "Been a little difficult for me lately. I haven't been myself since..."

"The Slipspace Accident a couple years back."

Sonic stopped, leaned against the wall, and sighed. "You know then."

"I knew you were close to her."

"I saw the signs, but I didn't do anything."

"What signs?"

"Th...that she was leaving me."

Granger's eyes darted back and forth in thought. "For whom?"

"I shouldn't talk about it. Come on. I was asked to get you out of here and I'm going to do it."

The base was a maze of corridors, staircases and ventilation shafts. They went out the same way Sonic came in. Several times they had to sneak past guards who were in corridors, patrolling or talking to friends. Eventually, they heard a sound over a jurry-rigged PA system.

"_Yeah, this is Cole! The Prisoner's escaped. Troy says he was attacked by a whirlwind or something like that!_"

A guard down below the vent they were in looked at his friends. "It's Sonic!" He said. They all pulled their charging hammers and ran down the hall."

Granger couldn't help but smirk. "Well, well, well. You seem to have made a few friends."

Sonic also laughed. "I've always had enemies among the Mobians." He started crawling down the vent shaft. "Everyone has internal enemies. The Humans have them, even some of those aliens, the Sangheili, they call them 'Elites',"

"Oh, right."

"Yeah, they have this 'honor' system, whatever the hell that means, and they kill each other when they're sleeping, and only if that guy is strong, he'll fight off all the assassin's himself!"

"Weird shit, man."

"Yeah, the galaxy is weird." He felt around the walls. "OK, we're getting close. I made a mark on the wall." He suddenly stopped. "Here it is."

Sonic pointed to two slashes in the metal.

"Hey, is it daytime or night?" Granger suddenly asked. "They took my watch."

"Daytime, around noon, if I'm not mistaken. Ah, here we are!"

A hastily covered grating was on the wall.

Sonic smiled. "I'm not good at disguising things, but none of these guys noticed that I took the bolts out." He carefully tilted the grate, peeking through the crack. "OK, we're good. Follow me, Granger."

The pair climbed out of the hole, checking the corridors. Matt stepped on something and the texture felt very different.

"Is...is that sand?"

Sonic winked. "The perfect hideout."

"Where the hell am I?"

"Just hang on a second."

The next room they entered was a motorpool. In this area, there weren't many trucks, but there were two captured Pelican dropships, plus a helicopter.

"You know what I don't understand?" Matt asked.

"What?" Sonic asked.

"If these guys are against Humans, why are they using Human equipment?"

Sonic genuinely thought about it.

"Humans have advanced technology. If some terrorists get their hands on something like that, they have an edge, even if it's against an interstellar empire."

"Did you come in on one of those birds?"

"Can't fly one." Sonic spotted an armed Doberman in the center of the room, smoking a cigarette. He checked for cameras, and satisfied, he ran and slammed the terrorist's head into the concrete floor. "Here, ammo." the hedgehog said tossing a couple magazines to Matt. "Just as well," he continued "I saw AA turrets on my way here."

Sonic found a door and slammed his shoulder into it. The door flung open and suddenly, the pair were blasted with hot air.

Matt now knew where he was.

All around him, hundreds of dunes spread out for miles. As far as he could see, he was in the middle of a gigantic desert.

"The perfect hideout." Matt repeated, but his words were barely a whisper amongst the wind. "Where am I?"

"Someone outside of the Radioactive Zone." Sonic said, shielding his eyes with a pair of sunglasses. "Pretty brave of these guys to even try building a base here."

"This had to be an Overlander outpost during the Great War." Matt said.

"I suppose." Sonic said, not really interested with the base's origins.

"OK, we're going to run out this way. As far as I know nobody managed to-OW!" Sonic reached back to pull something from his neck. He pulled it out and looked at it. It was a cylinder with a puffy tail on the end. "What's that..?" he asked before slumping to the ground.

_Tranquilizers!_ Matt thought. _Where are they?_ he wondered frantically, but there were windows and ledges. They could be anywhere. Before another thought came to his head, three of the darts hit him square in the chest. He dropped without a struggle.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed between his tranquilizing to his awakening. The whole thing was without a single dream so from the minute his eyes closed, he was up again.

Once again, he woke up in chains.

Titanium reinforced chains.

UNSC standard issue for unruly prisoners.

Matt's eyes felt like they were covered with weights.

"Ohh, my head." He said.

"You think you're in bad shape?" Sonic's voice said next to him.

Granger twisted around to see Sonic on his knees, his face bloody.

"Wh...where are we?" Granger asked.

Sonic sniffed back some blood. "Command center of some sort. Look."

He was right. Matt took in everything he saw. They were in a larger room. There were a few large computers, but the vast amount of space on the walls were covered with weapon racks and maps of Mobius and, Matt gulped, of Earth and a few Inner Colonies.

He suddenly felt sick. To counter the effects, he asked Sonic, "What happened to you? You have blood all over your face!"

Sonic chuckled. "Don't know. Woke up and it was there! Guess I deserved a boot to the nose!" It was an empty laugh though. Matt saw fear in Sonic's eyes. They had no way to fight back. They were defenseless.

Defenseless soldiers were dead soldiers.

Then, a seemingly warm voice said, "What are you doing? These men are my guests. Timothy, let them get up."

Matt didn't look to see who said it, but he knew.

"Uncuff them. They're sentient beings. They're not animals." the warm voice said.

Mett felt the Titanium chains slide off his wrists and ankles. He was free to move around again.

Sonic also had his chains unbound. "Where are my shoes?" He asked as he noticed his feet were covered in socks.

"Can't have you causing trouble." Gotam said as if scolding a child.

Matt looked into Gotam's face.

This Human being, this _traitor_ to his race looked for all the world to see as a warm man. He was tall, into his early forties. His jet black hair was tied into a ponytail and a neatly trimmed goatee covered his chin.

His blue eyes though, were icy evil.

He also dressed well too, although Matt couldn't recognize the style. His Italian leather shoes shined in the room, his trousers were tailor fit. His jacket was long, and tied with straps. His tie was a simple rectangular strip on his white shirt. Clearly, Francois Gotam was a man of wealth.

So why hadn't he heard of the man? Better Question: Why hadn't the government?

"I see you are admiring my attire and my face." Gotam winked. "I've had my eyes modified for an ice blue. I had brown ones before! Everything I own is custom made too." He chuckled. "I see what you are doing, Mister Granger. You're trying to figure out where you have seen me before. You won't have any luck. The man I used to be is long gone."

"Who were you?" Sonic asked.

"Boys..?"

Sonic doubled over as he was slammed in the stomach. He was on the floor, coughing and spitting up blood and saliva.

"That information is private, Mister Sonic."

"What is WRONG with you?" the hedgehog gasped.

"Shut him up."

A collie slammed his boot in Sonic's face.

"My baby brother wouldn't be roboticized if it wasn't for you!"

"What?"

"Shut up!" He growled kicking him again.

Gotam smiled sweetly again. "Leslie, my son. Look at me."

Leslie the Collie looked at Gotam, tears in his eyes. "We couldn't save him! He chose to save his princess instead! YOU MONSTER!"

"Leslie. It's alright." Gotam said quietly. "What is the first Tennent of the Cause?"

Leslie sniffed. "The first Tennent reads that we are driven to make the Mobians powerful, Lord Gotam."

"Yes! Good! Leslie, what are you doing? You are attacking a brother!"

"It's because of him I have nothing! Kirby is still a drone!"

Gotam stepped forward and hugged the collie. "Be at peace, son. We will save him, you me, your brothers and sisters."

All this time, Matt was wondering what the fuck he was seeing. A human was advancing the position of Mobians, _by trying to start a war_?

Gotam noticed this as well. "Ah...perhaps I should enlighten you. It is far too late to deny anything else."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Why, isn't it obvious, son? I _trust _you!"

"You...trust me?"

"WHAT?" Sonic asked.

"Yes!" Gotam said with energy. His eyes were wide, and there was a sparkle in it that they never saw before. "You are a creature of honor! You know where your loyalties lay, and you fight with energy. Your progress against the assassins proves this. You are pledged to the wrong masters though."

"The UNSC? Lord G-" He stopped himself for a second. "Gotam, I joined them because I wanted adventure and more understanding of where we were in the universe. I did not join to disgrace Mobians."

"The UNSC disgraces Mobians!" Gotam growled with energy. "They are picking on Mobians, making them slaves. Pets. No more than unintelligent dogs and cats!"

"Last time we checked, we weren't slaves." Sonic said.

"Not yet." Gotam said solemnly.

"What?" Sonic asked with wide eyes.

Did Gotam know something?

"The United Earth Government has an agenda. They are pushing their own wants before those of other people, making themselves gods among men. They let the homes of my ancestors burn!"

Ancestors. Burn...

At last, Granger saw the truth.

"TERRORIST! INSURRECTIONIST! TRAITOR!"

He charged forward, but Leslie the Collie and a badger grabbed his shoulders and held him back. Gotam backed away, nervous.

Matt was screaming at him hard. He was baring his sharp teeth and snarling. "YOU ATTACK CIVILIANS! YOU KILL PEOPLE FOR YOUR CAUSE! HUMAN BEINGS! YOU MONSTER!"

To his surprise and anger, Gotam smiled his fatherly smile. "Yes. You are right...I am a monster. I have done things I wish I shouldn't have. But I am a monster with his head on straight."

Granger's jaw slacked. "What?"

"You see, it's only a matter of time before the UNSC wants to take over Mobius. There's raw power here, resources, and most importantly, Chaos Energy. That would be the nail in the coffin for us. Our crusade to save humanity would shatter."

Sonic came forward, "You said, _save_ humanity. Why are you killing people?"

"Hmm. Peace through violence. The ends justify the means. We are showing the people how ineffective the Earth Government is to protect its people and allies. Faith in the government would plummet, and public opinion would drastically sway. I want to make new friends to help the Cause. That's why I want to be one with your people. That's why I want to become a Mobian."

There was silence in the room for a few seconds before Sonic said, "Have you totally lost your mind?"

Gotam grunted. "You heard me! I am obviously a very wealthy man! I made my fortune in a company that supplied medical cosmetics, tissue, and organ repair. We supplied hundreds of hospitals with equipment to heal people. I found scientists brave enough-"

"You mean crazy enough!" Sonic said.

"As I was saying, I found scientists brave enough to repurpose the machines, and I developed a machine that could turn me into one of them! An anthropomorphic creature! I wish to become the sybol of my family, the brave lion. It is the beast that has always been inside me. What I should have been!"

"...You are out of your fucking mind!" Granger said with a look of pity on his face. "You want to turn yourself into an anthro because you think you were born in the wrong body? You are absolutely, completely fucknuts!"

Gotam's face softened. "Hmm...you obviously do not know how I intend to do this. Come with me. Come."

The guards pushed both Matt and Sonic along past a bank of computers. There was some sort of storage tank. Inside, there was seemingly nothing, but a radiation counter bolted on the outside disagreed. It ticked constantly, indicating an invisible presence."

"Inside this very tank, my children, lies the source of the machine's power! It is cosmic radiation! I believe it to be the _original_ source of mutation! It was what killed the humans on Mobius ten thousand years ago! It was what wiped out their civilization, and in 2290, made us strong! It transformed us and turned us into what we are today! Don't you see, this is the miracle substance."

"Gotam," Matt said, awfully close to pleading with the man. "You don't know what that stuff will do to you! That much concentration in one place might destroy you!"

"Nonsense! It did not kill our ancestors, it will not kill me!"

"Yeah, but they were covered with titanium armor!"

"You simply do not see the majesty of my plan. It has been calculated down to _molecules_!"

Sonic looked to Leslie. "Do you know that your boss is leading you into hell, right?"

"We would follow him there."

"The boy is loyal." Gotam said smiling sweetly. "I envy his devotion to the Cause."

"The Cause is absolute, Lord Gotam!" Leslie said proud. The badger nodded in agreement.

_That's it, I'm fed up with this bullshit_. Matt thought. Looking over to Sonic, they locked eyes. At that moment, a subconscious agreement was reached.

Granger calculated quick. His eyes darted around. He needed to find something that could be useful to him. He looked around the room, he looked at Gotam, who was now explaining how his transformation would aid the Mobians. He looked to Leslie and realized something crucial.

_The collie was left-handed!_

Granger's heart was beating in his throat. He risked a glance downward, past his AK-47, and saw a sidearm holster. There was a pistol nestled in it. He was sure that Leslie's attention was solely focused on Gotam, since the collie's eyes were full of wonder and praise. He made sure he had a good, quick movement, and reached.

Granger's hand wrapped around the handgun's grip, he found the trigger, and pulled it.

The gamble paid off. Leslie the Collie was not a soldier, he was just a young man with a misplaced sense of loyalty. That being said, he wouldn't have flipped on the safety. The weapon barked twice and the terrorist was shot in the foot. Leslie yelped in pain and fell over, but Granger had plucked the handgun out of its holster. In a lightning quick motion, he blew the badger's brains out. Before the guard's body could hit the floor, Gotam had taken off for cover. The other guards in the Command Center started to return fire. They dove for a reinforced steel plate section of railing, but Sonic grunted in pain. He fell behind the plate into Granger's lap.

"AH!" He gasped, clutching his arm.

"Sonic!" Granger said stunned. He helped his friend. "What happened?"

"OW! I'VE BEEN SHOT! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" He gritted his teeth and held his arm. "OW! THIS HURTS!"

"OK, OK, stay calm!"

Sonic started to panic. "I THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO INTO SHOCK NOW! OH NO! THIS REALLY FUCKING HURTS! HELP ME!"

Blood started to leak through his fingers. Tears of pain fell from his eyes. Granger was shocked. "I have nothing to help you with!"

Sonic then dug into his pocket and thrust what looked like a micro remote control. "FUCK! TRIGGER IT! I CAN'T FEEL MY FINGERS! AAAHHH!"

With shaking hands, he pressed the single button. It started to pulse red at a quick pace. Sonic lay on the floor, wincing in pain.

_It's a beacon_, Granger realized. _They'll be here for us_.

He checked his magazine. Twenty-four rounds. He reinserted the mag and racked the slide.

_Alright, I'm game_.


End file.
